Everto Oculus
by The Pyrat
Summary: This is the tale of Beyond Birthday, the boy who saw death. Within is chronicled his meeting with the young detective L, his search for answers to the mystery of his eyes, and his life in Wammy's House. So have a seat. BB has a story to tell...
1. The Boy Who Saw Death

_Warnings: spoilers (for L's real name and the Death Note novel, Another Note), and somewhat disturbing subject matter (consider this is from B's POV)._

_Everto Oculus: Latin for "Demon Eye"_

_I've wanted to write a story with Beyond Birthday as the main character for a while now, and I've finally done it! I really hope it didn't turn out boring, but it is a bit slower paced. That is, it's more psychological drama and character development than an action story. If you've read my previous stories, it's more along the lines of "259" than "Face"._

_Beyond Birthday is, if you don't know, the main antagonist in the Death Note novel, Another Note: The LA BB Murder Cases. According to this novel he was the second child at Wammy's House, just after L (now that I've checked, A was the FIRST child at Wammy's House after L). Now, I've said this before, but I believe that Beyond Birthday was not always a murderous psycho. At one time he was just a kid, though probably a kid with some problems._

_Anyway, enjoy! Here is Chapter 1 :)_

__

_Death Note and all associated characters belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata._

_Beyond Birthday belongs to _NISIOSIN (and perhaps Ohba and Obata as well?)

* * *

The little boy wouldn't stop staring. Standing beside his mother in the subway station, clinging to her hand, his gaze refused to waver from the businessman standing anxiously beside the tracks. Was he late for work? Or had he already worked through the night and was eager to get home?

_Tick tock, tick tock…_

The man had already felt the boy's gaze on him several minutes ago. It was slightly unnerving; enough so to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He glanced over at the child with an uncertain smile, greeted only by the boy's dull stare. What on earth was he looking at? At first the man assumed he was staring him directly in the face…but his eyes were looking _above _that weren't they?

_Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…_

He glanced above his head. Was there a spider that had fascinated him, or some other little bug? No. There was nothing, and he tried to shake off his uncomfortable feeling. Surely the subway would be arriving soon? He glanced impatiently at his watch.

_Tick tock, tick tock_…

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy raise his hand uncertainly. Why was he waving good-bye? The boy didn't even know him and…oh, there was the subway. About time, nearly half an hour late-

As the crowds rushed foreword, desperate to be the first on board, the man was shoved from behind. It was a freak accident, and perhaps if he had not been standing so near the edge of the concrete, perhaps if he had not been so impatient for the subway to arrive…

He fell onto the tracks.

People screamed. The mother whisked up her child, pressing his face to her neck to shield his eyes. His red-brown eyes, brimming with tears.

"Bye-bye Jonathan," he whispered, far too quiet for his mother to hear. It was a shame the man had never been able to introduce himself.

A shame indeed. Welcome to my world. You could say a lot of things in it are "a shame".

...

From the moment we are conceived, we begin to die. You think I'm trying to be morbid, don't you? Well I'm not. I'm telling you the way things are.

Most people call it "growing up". Then, once you're "grown up", they call it "getting older". You only die after you've "gotten older". And apparently there's this certain point where you can say a person is dying. What is that point, exactly? Is it when the heart is slowing? Is it when the organs are wearing down? Is it when the body is ceasing to work?

No. No, no, no. Doctors are wrong. Most humans are wrong. They're all stupid and naïve and they put off saying "you're dying" until the last minute because they're afraid of their own mortality. Life is not a mountain. One does not climb up one side, get to the top which is considered their "prime", and then go down hill. Life doesn't work that way! Life is a _line_. Straight across, straight to the end. And I should know.

_How _do I know? I see it every day. From the tiniest infant to the oldest woman, the numbers never stop. What numbers you ask? The numbers that tell their lifespan of course. Everyone I've ever seen has them, except for me. I can't see mine. But for everyone else, they're right there above a person's head, just below their name. They look almost as if they're made of a reddish mist, and they don't work like human numbers. If you were to ask me how then was I able to understand them, I wouldn't be able to tell you. They simply make sense to me. There was no formula I used, no special technique. I just knew what they meant. I could understand them before I could count to 100.

Anyway, these numbers count down a person's life. They tell how much time is left, and every moment they're changing. It's like the human's clock. Tick tock, tick tock, counting down every second. There is no counting up, and _then_ counting down. No. It's counting down the whole way. A straight line.

That's how I know people spend their "life" dying. I never said it was a bad thing. Dying can be fun. You can still do plenty of things while you're dying. So go ahead, travel the world, see all that there is to see. Get married, have kids. Die your death to the fullest!

Henh, henh, henh…oh, ugh. I hate that laugh. It's _my _laugh, but I hate it. Probably because everyone else has always hated it. I should laugh "ha, ha, ha" or even "heh, heh, heh". I should have once had a baby's laugh, then a child's laugh, and then a man's laugh, but I've always had the same laugh and it's never changed. It's a laugh in my throat, and yet there's a deepness to it that comes out of my chest. Sometimes it will sound like I'm choking, and my school teachers used to get so concerned for me because of it. I never liked them.

I used to think everyone saw the world how I do. That disillusion lasted until kindergarten, when all the students were asked to draw a picture of their family. So I drew my mother and father, and the teacher came around to our desks to talk about the pictures with us.

"What a wonderful picture, Beyond!" she said when she came to me. "What very nice colors! Oh, is that your mommy and daddy's names?"

What else would they be? "Yes," was my simple reply.

"And what are these numbers, sweetie?"

I must have looked at her strangely. "You know."

"Do I really?" I could tell by the way she was talking that she thought I was playing a game. "How could I know something that comes out of your imagination?"

I frowned. I can remember now that I felt a bit frightened. What did she mean, "my imagination"? Was she implying that I was _pretending _there was numbers above my parents' heads? "The numbers are how long they're going to stay alive," I said slowly. The teacher's smile wavered.

"Oh…really? Well, that's nice Beyond, you put that they have very long lives."

I've already mentioned that life numbers didn't work like regular human numbers. It was not one solid amount; it was multiple but individual numbers. Looking back on the event, it probably looked as if I'd given them outrageously long lives.

She began to walk away, leaving me feeling as if I'd been accused of telling a lie. "But you have them too!" I said suddenly. "Right below your name! Mary Woods, 2 88 5 07 15 1 6."

She turned back to me, a strained look on her face. "That's enough pretending now Beyond. Sit down."

"Don't you believe me?" my voice was shaking as I said it. Don't assume it was easy to live with eyes like mine, seeing death all around. I'd clung to my sanity up until then simply because I thought everyone else saw this too. I never thought I was alone.

"Beyond," my teacher's voice was stern. "No more playing. You know these numbers are in your imagination, and you're scaring the other children. _Sit down_."

After school, my teacher had a talk with my parents, while I waited in the hall outside the classroom, feeling sick. I could hear nearly every word that was said.

"Beyond is a very sweet boy, and he usually doesn't cause any trouble. But there were some disruptions today."

She ended with, "I think your son has an overactive imagination. It's probably nothing serious, but you may want to have him seen by a doctor."

My parents were nice people. They sat down with me at home, my mother's arms around me, and asked me to explain about the numbers. They didn't get upset or irritated. They didn't demand I admit I was pretending. They just listened, expressions of concern on their faces. I did my best to tell them everything about the numbers, trying to make them understand that I'd always seen them. However, the very next day, they took me to a psychologist.

That was when I learned not to talk about how I saw the world. When my parents would ask if the numbers were still there, I would lie. I told them I didn't see them. I told them I thought I had imagined it after all, and I watched their lives tick down.

…

When I was nine years old, my mother, a real estate agent, had to make a sudden business trip several hundred miles away. Her boss had provided her with a train ticket while she was at work, and the moment she came home I realized something was wrong. Her life had gone down to less than 24 hours.

I really did try to stop her. I cried for so long she asked if I wanted to go with her. "We'll have fun," she said. "A nice train ride through the country. Won't that be nice? We'll get to see the mountains."

No. I couldn't go. I couldn't stop her. She left early the next morning, and by midday the report was on the news. The tracks had given out over a bridge, and the train had crashed. Quite a few people had survived…but not her.

The feeling that I could have saved her didn't last for long. I was so used to seeing death that I simply acknowledged it would happen, no matter what I did. When I was sick with the flu one night and my father decided to walk down the street two blocks to the drug store for medicine, I didn't panic when I saw that his lifespan was mere minutes. I gave him an extra tight hug goodbye, and waited until late the next day when the police came to take me from the house. They arranged for me to stay at a nearby children's shelter, and I found out that my father had been attacked and killed by thugs. Why did they kill him? For the money in his pocket, a whole twelve dollars and fifty-seven cents.

…

I'd always done well in school, but after my parents died my grades went off the charts. Their deaths snapped me into a completely different mindset than what I had before. I was different. I was alone. The others weren't like me. They were stupid and annoying, weak and petty. Squirming and struggling through their "lives", denying death, refusing to accept it. And when it came upon them they would die pathetically, because they'd learned death was a thing to be terrified of, that it was foreign and bad. I knew better. Death was magnificent, death was beauty. Death was the climax, the lift-off into the darkness beyond this earth, the launch into a different conscious, a different state of being. Every day, every moment, I was watching the countdown.

With this new state of mind, I no longer lived in fear. I was able to concentrate on my schoolwork and I scored high on the tests, math being my strongest subject. I no longer tried to hide my abilities, but instead relished them with cruel intent. To speak a person's name before it was given to me and see the shock on their face…now there was amusement.

The one thing I was careful to never do was tell a person when they were going to die. I wasn't stupid, and I knew that if one of the other orphans died young it could be from unnatural causes. If there was a murder, I didn't want to end up being a suspect because I'd known when they were going to die.

It was during my stay at the shelter when I first developed a liking for strawberry jam. The matron rarely, if ever, allowed us candy, since she was truly paranoid about us ever getting sick or developing cavities. If we were to ever get something sweet, it was a natural food, like watermelon or strawberries. We were also allowed to spread jam on our toast or pancakes if we wanted, and from the beginning my favorite was strawberry. It wasn't long before I was sneaking whole jars out of the fridge to eat it, scooping it out with my fingers simply because I liked the feel of it. Not to mention I liked that it was such a deep vibrant red. It would leave stains on my fingers, and then I could stare at that color for hours.

I was never able to stay with a foster family, so I lived in the children's shelter for one and a half years, until I was nearly eleven. A few newspapers had been out to interview me about my "unique abilities", as well as a psychic who encouraged me to "reach deeper into my inner self for great power". I'll have you know she annoyed me to no end. But just before my eleventh birthday, there was another visitor. One who would change my life.

He introduced himself as Professor Watari, though I saw his true name as Quillish Wammy. He was perhaps in his late fifties, dressed in a suit and hat, with a thick mustache. He arranged for us to have a private talk in the matron's office.

"I am Professor Watari," he said, extending his hand to me as I seated myself in front of the desk. I kept my own hands close by my sides, refusing to move them. "I've heard your name is Beyond Birthday, but the children here call you BB. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." He took out a notepad and pencil from his jacket, and I saw him write my name upon it. He wrote down "BB" as well, and circled it. "Now, I've heard you have rather clever eyes."

Clever, indeed. I answered, mimicking his English accent as I did. "You've heard right. Beyond can see peoples' real names and how much longer they have to live."

He smiled, looking truly enthralled, not like those other interviewers who looked at me as if I were crazy. "Really? My, my. Simply spectacular…" He scribbled down a bit more on his notepad. "I've had a look at your transcripts Beyond. You seem to have a clever mind as well." He took out three papers stapled together, handing them over for my inspection. They were sheets of math problems, starting with algebra and moving into calculus by the last page. He held out a pencil. "Could you solve those for me?"

I frowned. "These are really hard."

I could see disappoint on his face. "Can't you do them?"

"Yes," I said, nodding quickly. "Beyond can do them. But Beyond needs some strawberry jam first."

I'm not sure what it was I saw in his eyes right then. It could have been recognition, surprise, hope…it could have been all three. He nodded, as if requesting strawberry jam before doing math problems was the most logical thing in the world. "Of course. I shall be back presently."

He returned to the room a few minutes later with a jar of fresh jam, cold and unopened. I took it eagerly, scooping it out with my left hand as I wrote with my right, though I still managed to smear the paper with red stains.

"Does jam help you think?" said Wammy, or Professor Watari. He was watching me closely as I worked, occasionally writing something down. I wouldn't have been surprised if the way I held my pencil fascinated him. He made me think of those Australian wild-life observers I'd see on TV. They were always so enthralled with every small action an animal made.

"Yes, it helps. It makes Beyond's brain work faster." I cracked my neck, not really feeling like explaining it all to him. I was still waiting for him to write me off as a lunatic, like everyone else had. I moved onto the second page of equations, picking up the jar to slurp the jam directly from it as I did.

I handed over the papers in silence when I'd finished, then turned my attention to wiping out every spot of jam that remained in the jar as Wammy went over my answers.

"Absolutely remarkable," he said. "These are all correct." I tried to get a strawberry seed out from beneath my nail with my tongue, not bothering to answer. "Beyond, you have a truly gifted mind. As for your eyes…can you tell me my name? The name you see?"

"Quillish Wammy," I mumbled, my speech muffled by the finger in my mouth.

"Now, what about these numbers you see, that indicates a person's lifespan? What are mine?"

"78 2 9 45 6 05 1," I said. He slid his notepad across the desk toward me, asking if I would write them down and I did.

"How do these add up to a lifespan? Is it days? Hours?"

I shook my head, growing bored. "No. They aren't human numbers. They don't work that way. Beyond can't tell you how they work, they just do."

Wammy nodded his head, collected his notepad, and got to his feet. "Very well Beyond. I shall have to have a few words with the matron."

…

By midmorning three days later my few possessions were packed and loaded into the back of a classic Rolls-Royce, parked in front of the shelter. The children all had their faces pressed to the windows, wondering who on earth would ever want Beyond Birthday, the freak. I wasn't especially glad to be adopted, but I certainly wasn't unhappy. Wammy was smiling as he stepped out of the car and handed me another jar of strawberry jam, then walked with me down the front steps after I said good-bye to the matron. Or rather, after she said good-bye to me.

"I brought someone with me I'd like you to meet," said Wammy as we headed toward the car, my hands already in the jam jar. "Another boy I've adopted. He's a bit older than you, but the two of you are so very alike. I'm sure you'll get along perfectly."

I didn't really care who he'd brought with him. It could be the Queen of England and it still wouldn't make a difference to me. But as he opened the car's backdoor and I looked up to get in…the first thought that flashed through my mind was that there must have been a mirror in the backseat.

But no. It wasn't my reflection. _My _reflection never sat with its legs pulled up to its chest, chewing a thumbnail with a sucker in its mouth. My reflection never crawled toward me on all fours to bring its face to within an inch of mine. My reflection didn't have grey eyes.

The thing that was not my reflection smiled. "Is he clever too, Watari?" it said. "Is he B? Is he number 2, the next me?"

I glanced up at his name, floating above his head.

L Lawliet.

* * *

_Now, about Beyond Birthday referring to himself in third person. He speaks this way on page 96 in the novel, and I realize he also speaks normally on the same page. His speech will change as the story progresses. I kind of look at it as B doesn't often live "as himself". For example, in the novel he is trying to decide on a laugh for himself that is different from his normal one, and he mimics L's behavior. That's why I decided to give him a bit of a "parroting habit", which causes him to mimic things._

_Oh yes, and L's grey eyes. Well, as far as I can tell he's never actually given an eye color, in neither the manga or anime (not sure there). But I thought grey was a nice color for him, and I didn't want to say he had black eyes._


	2. The Wammy's House

_Yay, the first live-action Death Note movie premieres in American theaters on May 20__th__! As if I haven't already seen it enough. In case you didn't know about that, go to the Fathom Events website for more info. You can't miss it! I want to go as Mello so bad._

_Anyway, here is Chapter 2. I'm on a major inspiration streak right now, and I've been having quite a lot of fun writing this and planning out my next story (which is going to be amazingly, epic-ly fun to write :D ). Enjoy!_

* * *

"You must insure you do not refer to yourself by your name in public," said Wammy as he drove. "Call yourself B, or BB if it suits you better, when we are in the hearing of others. Likewise, you must not call L by his full name, as I'm sure you've already seen it. Your names must be kept secret for the sake of your security."

L and I hadn't stopped staring at each other from the moment the car door opened. We sat curled up against opposite doors, me slurping up the jam as he licked at the sucker. He would blink owlishly every once in a while, his eyes wide as he watched me. There were faint dark rings beneath those eyes, giving the rest of his face a sickly looking pallor. Neither of us moved save for the small actions necessary to eat our snacks, our gazes suspicious. What else could one possibly expect? I was sitting across from a boy who looked uncannily similar to me, not to mention like a complete lunatic, being driven in an expensive car by a rich gentlemen who refused to stop talking.

"I made a great deal of money in my younger days as an inventor," he said. "With that money I've been able to open several orphanages around the world. However, since finding L six years ago, my greatest interest has been in those children who are truly gifted as he is. The unfortunate thing is that when such children are orphaned, it proves to be rather difficult to find them homes. Perhaps you'll understand Beyond, but many times those children with great intellectual ability are in some way impaired socially, making them a bit more difficult to care for."

Oh I understood. Looking at L I understood perfectly. He might as well have had "socially-impaired" stamped on his forehead in big red letters. And, yes, I had to admit I wasn't much of a social butterfly myself, but that was only because I chose not to be. I could be perfectly charming if I tried. But this boy was really a hopeless case.

"L has already begun climbing the ranks in the world of crime-solving," said Wammy. "He's a detective, and so far he has solved dozens of cases without even leaving the house. For example, the Buckingham Palace Thefts was solved by him just last week. Solved it in two days while the 'professionals' were still scratching their heads." Wammy chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. Any respect I may have felt for the detective who'd solved the case when I'd seen it on the news had just been destroyed. Not that I'd felt much respect to begin with. I could have easily solved the case myself if I'd had access to all the information.

"Watari and I have been searching for another child of my caliber for some time now," said L suddenly, making me flinch as I looked over at him. His voice was ridiculously mature for his age. "I hate to lose, and since I am working in the field of criminal justice my life is on the line. We have taken the proper precautions for my safety, but of course I'm still not completely protected from all harm. If I were to die, I would want someone to continue solving cases in my name. That way I would not cease to win. That is where you come in Beyond Birthday. You are the second child Watari himself has adopted. The second child who could take the alias 'L'. In other words, the next me."

"Beyond doesn't like being second," I said, licking jam from fingertips. "How can he be first?"

"You'd have to kill me," said L matter-of-factly, bending the stick on his sucker.

"Oh, now, now L. Don't say such things," said Wammy.

"I trust you are competitive, yes?" said L, glancing over at me. "It would be impossible for you to ever take my place if you aren't."

"Beyond loves to win," I said. I hadn't even realized before how competitive I could become, probably because I had never been faced with anyone near my level. But L was different than the others. He looked at me strangely, with eyes that saw too much and a mind that did too much thinking. I could sense it, the constant activity in his head, so strong it was like a steady pulse of pressure upon my eyes. Even his name was different than others', the letters being faint and sometimes difficult to make out.

It was over a two hour drive to my new guardian's home, all the way in Winchester. It was set back from the road, a massive property surrounded by an iron fence, grass, and trees. The house was large, looking like a church, a mansion, and a private academy combined. A large cross was upon the roof above the front doors, and there was a metal plaque set in a brick pillar beside the gates which read "The Wammy's House".

Wammy used a small remote upon the dashboard to open the gates, continuing to drive up the dirt path toward the house. "I wouldn't call this place an orphanage," he said. "This is my personnel residence, though it is capable of housing about forty others including myself, as well as the staff I already have. BB, you will be schooled here, along with L. I already have teachers who live on the premises."

I sat up on my knees for a better view out the high-set window. So this was Wammy's personnel domain, where only worthy children could enter. It was an impressive place, but it wasn't intimidating. That is, it didn't look as if it would eat you, like mansions sometimes did. It looked less like an over-blown house and more like a home. I was pretty sure I could see a large pond near the back of the house, and the many trees around provided dark shady places that looked inviting. I'd have to go back in those trees sometime soon. Maybe I could get lost in them.

Wammy parked the car near the front steps, and I opened the door slowly, stepping out to stare up at the cross. The property was very quiet, with just the rustling of leaves coming to my ears. I made my way up the steps while the other two were still getting out of the car, and without waiting for an invitation I opened the front doors.

There's something wonderfully powerful about throwing open double doors, turning both knobs at once and feeling like royalty making a grand entrance as you stand silhouetted in the doorway. I wished there had been someone waiting in the hall inside to see me enter, but there was no one present. The entryway was tiled with cream-colored marble, and upon the walls were hung paintings and old black and white photographs. I could see a wide stairway a good fifty yards ahead, leading up to the floor above. Stepping inside, the ceiling soared high above my head until it narrowed to a point, from which hung a chandelier with thousands of little glass squares and diamonds dangling upon it. It was just the right time of day for the sun to be shining through the curved window above the doors and reflecting in the glass, throwing miniscule rainbows all about the walls.

I liked this place already. It had a Victorian era feel about its insides, dark and gothic but somehow still light and airy. Hearing someone starting up the stairs behind me, I lay down upon my back on the cold tile, spreading out my arms as I stared up at the chandelier. It gave me a wonderful feeling of vertigo, something like falling from a great height, making my stomach drop. How beautiful, how dramatic, if all that glass were to fall around me piece by piece, the little glittering shards scattering and skidding across the floor like raindrops. I shivered and grinned, beginning to giggle a bit.

L appeared above me, staring down at my face with wide grey eyes as he crouched down for a closer look, tipping his head to the side. Wammy was close behind him, carrying my bag, and he chuckled as he saw me.

"Whatever are you doing, BB?" he said. "Here, come along, I'll show you to your room."

I pulled up my legs, inching my torso closer to them until I managed to get up without using my hands. We didn't go upstairs, but instead turned to the left of them, taking a wide hallway past Wammy's room and then L's, before reaching my own. Mine was built in the front corner of the house, so there were windows on two walls, instead of just one like L would have. For some reason I liked the idea of having a room with a better view than his.

Altogether it was a nice place; not personalized in any way, but nice. Wammy asked if I wanted help unpacking my things, but I told him I'd do it myself, and he left me alone. However he asked L to stay with me if I needed anything, and to show me around the house when I'd finished putting away my clothes, so the boy remained.

I stood across the room from him, my bag in my hand, as he looked back at me with terribly blunt fascination. It was like the annoying two year old one sometimes comes across in stores. They'll simply stand there _staring _at you with those big annoying eyes until you're really tempted to frighten them away. Somehow I didn't think scare-tactics would work with L though.

But at least silence never made me feel awkward, so I was able to let him stand there staring and not say a word to him. I unzipped my single bag and dumped out my clothes, all too big for me because they had been donations to the children's shelter and they didn't often get the right size. I was tall for my age, but skinny, so all my clothes hung on me like bags. L looked as if he had much the same problem, only the shirt he was wearing looked as if it had been bought in the men's section and hung down to his knees, while his pants bunched around his ankles and covered his feet completely as he walked, making him have to shuffle about.

I had a thing about my clothes being in a certain order, and as I set to work putting them in the closet properly L suddenly crouched down beside me, picking up one of shirts with the very tips of two of his fingers, as if he thought it was dirty and didn't really want to touch it. He held it close to his face, then turned it upside-down and examined it all over. What was he looking for, bloodstains? He tossed it down, then picked up another, going through the same routine.

"Do you mind?" I snapped, snatching my shirt out of his hands. "Beyond is _trying _to put these away."

"My apologies," he said, and backed off a bit to crouch down just a few feet away. Just what was he up to?

…

Even though Wammy had asked him to, L didn't exactly show me around the house. Rather, once my bag had been unpacked I explored on my own terms and he followed behind to occasionally point out something if I happened to ask where it was. I first wanted to know where the kitchen was, and after having it shown to me I was quick to check the fridge. Apparently Wammy had prepared well for my arrival; there was plenty of strawberry jam within on the shelves. I explored all the classrooms and upstairs bedrooms, the library, the common room, the basement, and the attic. We came upon several of the staff along the way, including one of our teachers, but I didn't bother to greet them, nor did L. He simply followed behind me in silence, and when I had seen the house's every nook and cranny, he cast his eyes up to the ceiling for a moment in thought, then said, "I think we could be friends Beyond-kun."

Kun? Wasn't that a Japanese honorific? He didn't look Japanese, and his accent seemed to be English, tinged with something else. Perhaps Russian? I frowned as I looked back at him, meeting his friendly smile. What was he about? What was _his _history?

"Beyond doesn't have friends," I said. "Beyond doesn't _want _friends."

"That's a shame."

A shame indeed. Just like everything else.

It seemed L had finally gotten in the mood to talk as we headed back downstairs. "What is your nationality?" he said, staying close beside me as we walked. "Your accent is American."

"Beyond's parents were from America," I said, not wanting to get into that subject. "They were both of German descent, but were born in the U.S."

"I suppose your black hair is from your father's side?"

"…Uh…yes…Beyond supposes so…" Though he was walking backwards to the side of me and a little ahead, he was just close enough to make me feel as if I was going to trip over his feet.

"And you probably got your brown eyes from your mother."

"She did have brown eyes…"

"Ah, yes. But no doubt not such an unusual color Beyond-kun! Hmm, and your skin is rather pale. You prefer to stay indoors perhaps?" He glanced down at my shoes, then suddenly dropped down to all-fours right in my way. I was so stunned that I stopped just short of falling over him. He grabbed my ankle, forcing me to balance on one foot as he pulled off my shoe. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. "Size 10! You're probably bound to be exceptionally tall with feet this big. And at only ten years old! I can imagine it would be rather embarrassing to have such big feet."

"These are a size too big!" I said, snatching the shoe out of his hand and putting it back on. "Now stop examining Beyond! He isn't a bug under a microscope!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Beyond-kun, if I was annoying you. I promise it was unintentional."

Regardless of my worn-out temper, I made it through the rest of the day without any explosions. L and I met with Wammy again at dinner, taking our seats at the long table in the dining room. There was actually a roast turkey, which I hadn't had for years and enjoyed immensely. I ate it with jam instead of cranberry sauce, making sure to take some of each food offered at the table. But I couldn't help watching L as he sat across from me, refusing the meat and the vegetables, taking only a single apple cut into slices and a small cup of tea with three sugar cubes, which he used to swallow the pills Wammy set beside his plate.

With the meal over and the house's residents retiring to their beds, it seemed my first day in my new home was concluded. And it would have been, if it wasn't for one small thing.

I was a restless sleeper.

Even when in a familiar place, I would still lay awake for hours on my back, my arms spread out as if I was a trap waiting to snap upon sleep if it ever came. But in this new place, it was worse. I was used to the sounds of other children nearby, and late night staff cleaning up in the halls. I was used to the roar of traffic just outside, and I was used to voices and laughter coming to me from the streets. Here there was none of that.

It was as if the house transformed during the night. Corners would fill up with shadows and become dark doors into the wall, floorboards would settle and creak. And as I got up from my bed, creeping out into the hall in my bare feet, I saw the stairs looming up and the blackness beneath them, the dark empty halls and the corners around which lurked the unknown. I got the jittery feeling of fear in my stomach, and I thought of the attic and the basement, dark places where scary things could hide and creep out at night to slither across the floor and into my room. Did I dare let such things find me as I slept?

I made my way to the kitchen and got myself a jar of jam before I started to search for a place where I could safely barricade myself. The bathrooms were too small and cold, and the upstairs bedrooms were too empty. The classrooms didn't have any locks upon their doors, and neither did the common room, which also had a door that led down to the basement. Going back to the kitchen was out of the question, because it only had a swinging door. That left me with only one option: the library.

The place had a strong smell of dust and books as I entered, and the dozen bookshelves gave plenty of convenient hiding places for lurking creepy things. I locked the door behind me, then checked everywhere in the room before I settled down in a large leather chair in the far corner. I hugged the jam jar to my chest and ate it slowly, my eyes still darting about the room as I did.

I don't know how long it took me to fall asleep; I know only that I eventually covered my eyes with my hands to block out the room around me. There were photos on the walls in this room as well, and to see the names and life spans floating there without a body beneath them gave me thoughts of invisible beings haunting the room. It was far from an easy night.

…

I awoke the next morning to sunlight pouring in the tall arched windows, my neck feeling cramped from the awkward position it had been kept in while I slept. I had apparently fallen asleep before finishing the jam, for sometime during the night it had tipped over and spilled across the chair and dripped onto the floor. My legs were now uncomfortably sticky with it, and I sat up swaying with drowsiness. I'd be having my first lessons today; I couldn't afford to be nodding off during them. I wanted to catch up with L as quickly as possible.

I stood up, my feet landing in sticky drips of jam, but paused before going forward. I suddenly realized something seemed different about the room. Of course it was probably true that sunlight would give it a different feel and alter the way I perceived it, but this was a bigger difference than just sunlight. The door was still shut…but…

A large book along with an old key had been placed on the floor several feet in front of my chair. I walked over to crouch down beside it, finding that though the large volume was old it wasn't dusty, and had therefore most likely been recently used. The key was long and copper in color, with an inch long row of teeth. Holding the key in one hand, I opened the book with the other. On the first page, in fancy old English text, was written the title: Dr. James Webman's Logic and Philosophy: A Collection of Letters and Essays.

I knew this was an advanced book, something to be read by college students. I also knew it hadn't been on the floor the previous night. But I'd locked the library door…how could anyone have gotten in? Ahh, was that what the key was for then?

So sometime during the night while I was sleeping, in a time period starting after midnight, someone had sought me out to give me this book, had found me in the library, and then left the book _and _key behind. My first question was of course "who", not that there were many candidates. It would have had to be someone who had access to the house's keys, which could only be L or Wammy. The old man was definitely a more likely suspect. Perhaps sometime this morning he'd been searching about for me and had discovered me in here. Maybe he'd left the key by mistake.

Still gripping the key, I tucked the book under my arm. There was no use standing here wondering over it, not with classes to attend. I wasn't sure of the time, so I rushed a bit as I went back to my room and tucked the book and key under my bed. I'd unfortunately forgotten to check if the key was indeed for the library door, but that would have to wait for tonight.

I was on my way to the kitchen when I heard Wammy call to me as I passed the dining room, and I paused. He had just finished his breakfast, and was making his way out of the room with his emptied plate. "Ah, there you are BB. Did you have a pleasant night?"

Saying "no" would have made him concerned, and I didn't want him fussing over me. "Pleasant enough," I said.

"Oh…_my_, well, you're a mess!" he said, chuckling as he noticed the jam stains all over me. "Some late night snacking perhaps? Well, you needn't worry. Go get cleaned up and have some breakfast. Lessons don't start until noon."

I would have rather skipped the bath and started studying, since I really didn't mind the stickiness. "Where is L?" I asked.

"Most likely off studying somewhere," said Wammy, walking past me. "He keeps to himself most of the day. Other than lessons and dinner, you probably won't see him much."

"What books will Beyond need?" I said, feeling the thrill of the day's challenge within me already. After being "first" all my life, suddenly hauled down to "second" certainly wasn't pleasant, but I didn't have any doubts that I would overtake L soon enough.

"Oh yes, your books, of course," Wammy stopped and set down his plate, then withdrew a little notepad and pen from his coat pocket. "Here. These are all you'll need. You can find them in the library. Surely L must have shown it to you yesterday…" He tore off one of the papers, after he had finished writing the titles of several volumes upon it, and handed it to me. "But for heaven's sake, make sure you wash up."

Taking the list, I ran off without a word, back toward the library. But as I approached the doorway, I saw that someone had left a stack of books just outside the room. Glancing at their titles and at the list in my hand, I realized they were the exact ones I needed.

Alright, enough of this. This _couldn't _have been Wammy; there was no way he could have passed me up and gotten here before me to leave the books and disappear. Whoever this was, I hadn't askedthem for help, and I certainly didn't need it. Didn't they think I was capable of getting the books on my own? It was annoying, making me feel as if I were being treated like a toddler. Was it one of the teachers, snooping around eavesdropping on my conversations so they could know where I'd be? What nonsense. What utter and complete nonsense.

Well, whoever this was, I would simply have to prove to them I could do well enough on my own. I would prove it to the whole house, L and Wammy as well! I would _not _be a mere second for long.

* * *

_About L having a slight Russian accent: Death Note Volume 13: How To Read, states on page 59 that L is a quarter Japanese, English, Russian, and French or Italian. I gave him a little Russian accent just because I liked the idea :)_

_About B being afraid of the dark: I imagine B as being a little paranoid, and maybe even a bit of a hysteric if provoked. As a child, I can picture him having the fears of an average kid (being scared of the dark), but he handles it in a calmer way because of a more mature personality._

_About L's pills: honestly, it is not possible for someone to maintain any sort of healthy existence the way he eats. He would have to have a source of basic vitamins and minerals._


	3. Lessons, Dead Crows, and Spilled Jam

_Here is chapter 3, where at last I can feel as if I won't be boring anyone with the story. This was originally two chapters, but I kept going back and reading them and thinking, "Sheesh, if I give people a chapter 3 of nothingness they won't keep reading." So I edited, shortened, and combined 3 and 4 into one bigger-than-usual chapter. _

_So, with the most sincere hopes that it turned out well, here is chapter 3 :)_

* * *

My first school day in Wammy's House started with English. Now, I'll have you know that isn't _exactly _my best subject, but I wasn't terrible at it. However, it seemed the very critical Ms. Kennedy thought differently. "You should not refer to yourself in third person, B," she said. "It is absolutely atrocious to speak that way! If you were to tell someone you like strawberry jam, you must say '_I _like strawberry jam', not 'B likes strawberry jam'."

I defied her with every last fiber of my being. I was perfectly willing to learn, but only if she was going to teach me things I didn't know. I already knew perfectly well that my speech wasn't proper, and I didn't care. If she wanted to be so picky about speech patterns, why didn't she criticize L when he called her Kennedy-sensei? He wasn't even Japanese, the wretched boy! If _that _wasn't proper, I didn't know what was! All throughout class he sat beside me, holding a bag of oversized marshmallows and a can of squirtable chocolate whipped cream, which he would use to coat each marshmallow before eating it. I had nothing against him; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he never failed to answer each question just the slightest bit faster than me, and would get 100 on his papers when I'd get 99. I was so used to being first in every subject and praised for my work that suddenly being pulled down to second place was rather shocking. It was the same in every class. Though I tried my hardest to finish first just _once_, I simply couldn't succeed.

The end of our school lessons brought a class of a different sort, one I hadn't been expecting. As L went back to his room to fetch his shoes, Wammy presented me with a new suit of outdoor wear, a shirt and shorts that actually fit me and shoes that were my size. Accompanying them was a new tennis racket, still wrapped in its package.

As Wammy was quick to proudly point out, first-boy L was England's Junior Tennis Champion, and he had a personnel trainer who came to the house every other day and would now be teaching me as well. I'd never really played sports, nor had I ever watched tennis on TV, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

Of course, all of you have probably already seen a tennis match, or at least a few minutes of one, so you'll know what they're like. For one thing, they involve a terrible amount of running, back and forth, up and down, swinging that racket at little neon yellow balls sent sailing your way. After the first few minutes of clumsily trying to keep up with the trainer's pace, I'd already had enough. I wasn't enjoying myself, and that was putting it delicately.

But there was L, running remarkably lightly on his toes, keeping pace and nowhere near out of breath. As I rested on the sidelines of the backyard's tennis court, I felt a stab of jealousy, sitting there panting as he went on with the lesson easily. Being such an odd lanky boy, he didn't seem as if he'd be good at a sport of any kind, especially not one that required such agility and speed as tennis did.

I forced myself to rest only a brief few minutes before throwing myself back into action, doing everything I could to get that ball back across the net. By the time an hour and a half had passed, I had managed to contain myself to rests lasting only ten minutes at the most. I was completely exhausted, collapsed on the grass beside the court with my empty water bottle in my hand, but I felt good.

"You did well B," the trainer said, as he collected his rackets and balls to take them back to his truck. "You've got potential."

He had an Australian accent, and just as I'd done with Wammy a few days ago, I mimicked it as I answered. "Thank you. B will practice."

"Quite impressive Beyond-kun," said L as we walked back indoors, sweat beading on his forehead. "You did exceptionally well."

I felt I should probably chuckle. Should it be Hahaha, or…no, chuckles weren't so boisterous. I needed something softer, but a touch of menace to it would be nice. "Hehehe, you may not be first-boy here for long, yeah, L? Beyond might snatch it away."

L ran his thumb over his lip, withdrawing a lollipop from his pocket. "I'm 71 sure you won't be able to accomplish that." He put the sucker in his mouth, while my face darkened. "You're still good. You need to practice however. Your feet are slow."

I planted myself in front of him, blocking his path up to the front steps. His expression remained neutral as I reached out my hand to trace one of the veins in his neck with the tip of my finger. Whispering, I said, "That still leaves 29. Besides, Beyond thinks his eyes are proof enough that he's good at beating the odds. Wouldn't you agree, L Lawliet?"

I grinned, feeling quite cocky with that little bit said as I turned away. I opened the front door, and just as I did, I felt his hand fall on my shoulder.

"If you knew anything of me, you would be certain I'm quite good at beating the odds as well, Beyond Birthday." He withdrew his hand, sucking the lollipop a moment before leaving it to hang in his cheek. "But today is for learning, so I'll teach you something. I never give a percentage unless I'm at least 90 certain myself." He smiled in an entirely friendly way. "That leaves you with 10." He turned his back to me and walked off down the hall, calling, "But you _are _impressive Beyond-kun."

…

After fetching myself a cold glass of water and a jar of jam I returned to my room, took my schoolbooks from their shelf and tossed them upon the bed. Taking a pencil and notebook from my desk drawer, I threw open my English book and reread the day's lesson, then the next, and the next, taking notes and highlighting the bits I found important. At the end of the hour, I had all the questions for the next three days of work answered, and I was far from done. If L wanted to openly challenge me, then he'd certainly be given a competition. I'd take his 10 and tear it into shreds.

When dinner passed I still had yet to leave my room, having launched into my studies with a vigor that was merciless to any hunger I felt. About half an hour after the mealtime had come and gone, Wammy knocked upon my door, then peered inside to see what I was doing.

"It's getting rather late for study BB," he said. "You've already missed your meal. I'd rather wanted to have a chat with you about your day. Did it go well?"

"Beyond doesn't like being second," I said. I was beginning to feel the effects of my fatigue, my stomach so empty I felt utterly cold and hallow inside. "But he likes tennis. It makes his heart rush and his breath go quickly, so he likes it. Ms. Kennedy is a twit and doesn't like how Beyond talks, so I don't like how _she _talks. Her voice is annoying and loud. The other teachers are fine, but they like L better. It's okay. They'll like Beyond soon too, because he'll be better than L."

Wammy chuckled. "Well I like your spirit BB. And don't be insulted, the teachers here have nothing against you. They'll get used to you soon enough. They told me they were impressed with how well you did in your lessons today."

"You asked?" I glanced at him over my shoulder.

"Of course. I want you to do well here. I wasn't going to simply let you loose in the house to do as you please. I adopted you after all."

Adopted me…as a parent…but wasn't it different with him? He just wanted genius children, didn't he? He couldn't have adopted me, or L, with the intention of us actually being his family.

"What if I don't do well?" I said, looking back to my book. "Will you send me back to the shelter?"

I heard him enter further into the room. "Of course not! I made a commitment to take care of you. Children mean far more than merely their level of intelligence. It's true I was drawn to you because you are quite brilliant, but I fear you've taken this the wrong way. I would certainly never neglect or abandon a child because they didn't have a high enough IQ."

I felt his hand on my head, and I closed my eyes. So he had really _adopted _me. He actually wanted to be a parent and take care of me. The whole time I'd been at the shelter I'd thought it wasn't possible. The truth was, I'd been investigated by plenty of prospective parents and foster families, and they'd all turned me down. On one couple's way out, I'd heard the woman say, "What a frightful child! Whenever he'd look at me…ugh! It was like cold blood on my skin." I knew my real mother would have never said that about me, so I had no problem letting them go. I'd accepted that I was a child only his original parents could ever love.

"You'll do wonderfully here, BB," said Wammy, squeezing my shoulder before I heard him turn to go. "But the books must be away in half-an hour. Then I want you in the dining room for a meal. I can't have you neglecting yourself. There's plenty of time for study tomorrow."

I usually resisted authority, pushing other's commands to the very limits of what they'd defined before I obeyed. But it had been so long since I could begin to let myself consider someplace home that I did as Wammy said. Maybe I was a bit thankful, even though I would have usually insisted I had nothing to be thankful for, that I shouldn't have had these fears of being rejected in the first place. But I did, and Wammy, for the time being, had calmed them. So after half an hour of further study I put away the books and went to the dining room for my dinner.

I was too tired to stay up late that night. After I'd read several chapters into Logic and Philosophy I put it away, and took out the key I'd found with it before I ventured out into the halls. The house was dark again, and the same gripping fear from the previous night had hold of me. It wasn't a terrorizing fear, for I remained perfectly calm, but it was enough to make me seek the safety of a locked room that had no dark closets or beds under which things could hide. Upon reaching the library, I made sure I tested the key in the lock, to see if I had been right in my assumptions about it.

I was. This key fit the door's lock perfectly.

Whoever had left this key behind had essentially given me the library for my own. With the key in my possession it insured that no one could bother me while I slept, an extra measure of safety against the useless fear I felt whenever night came. I curled up in the chair once more, and tucked the key beneath my body before I slept.

…

The rest of my first week in the house proceeded much as the first day had. Meals, lessons, and study. As Wammy had said, I didn't see L much except for classes and dinner. Other than that he kept to himself for most of the day, and that time wasn't spent in his bedroom. When I actually went to the trouble to try to discover where he was hiding, I found that it wasn't in the library, or the kitchen, basement, or attic. He showed up at least an hour early to each class, prepared with bags of sweets, and never once did he mention where he'd been or what he'd been doing.

But just as I was beginning to fall into the routine, staying up late into the night as I studied and sleeping in the next morning, things changed. It started with a dead crow.

Now, it's not _unusual _for crows to die. Everyone will once in a while come across the corpse of an animal, and though they may be a bit unnerved by it or even disgusted, they move on. Wammy's House had its only flock of crows actually, that came at about midmorning every day to take the walnuts out of the gardens in the back of the house. They'd crack the nuts open by dropping them on the house's roof and would make a large amount of noise with it, but I liked listening to them. Sometimes I'd go up to the attic and open the window just so I could listen to them cawing and cracking the nuts. There were several dozen in the flock, so it wasn't to be unexpected that some of them would eventually die.

Only, when one looked at this bird's corpse, it really didn't look as if it had simply died naturally. To be honest, it was as if someone had strangled it.

I was the one who came across it, lying directly on the House's front steps with its feathers rumpled and head twisted at an odd angle. I had been planning on going back into the trees anyway, just to walk about and be in the dim light for a bit, so I picked the bird up with a shovel and took it with me. I buried it back a ways in the trees, right among a maple's roots, and didn't think much more of it. The fact that it _looked _strangled didn't really mean anything to me.

I thought that was it. Over, subject closed. It wasn't something even worth thinking any further about in my mind. I'd almost forgotten it completely when Wammy took L and me into the town the following day, Saturday, with a bit of spending money and loose supervision that allowed us to wander. I'd never been in the town of Winchester before, and I found it interesting to see new names and faces.

I began to wander as Wammy paid for his tea in a café, making my way through the pressing crowd in the small shop and out onto the street. It was warm summer weather, with just a thin cloud layer above and I walked down the street rather aimlessly, peering into shop windows and dodging around pedestrians. Passing by an alleyway, I caught the sounds of a dog barking, a high yipping cry, like an animal extremely excited or anxious. Pausing, I peered down the dingy space between the two buildings. It wasn't a dirty alley, with just a few trashcans and dumpsters and no debris scattered around. I couldn't see the dog, but I knew its barking was coming from this direction, and I could faintly see the tip of its tail behind a dumpster at the alley's end. I wasn't really a dog person, not having any particular liking for them, but I headed toward it anyway, catching sight of it pacing about the closer I got. It seemed I could hear a flapping sound, like wings beating against the concrete, and as I peered around the dumpster, I saw I was right.

It was another crow, flopping weakly on the ground on its back. I thought surely it must be having a fit, the way it was oddly twisting. The dog was whining and pacing excitedly, but it wasn't touching the bird, just watching it. Strangely, its eyes weren't consistently fixed on the dying creature either. They would flicker upwards and it would bark, before looking back down to the bird and resuming its pacing.

The crow went still, its body falling limp against the ground, and I frowned at it curiously. The dog went up to it, nudged it a few times with its nose, then cowered and whimpered, before dashing back toward the street as if frightened. Surely the bird had been diseased, I thought, looking down at the twisted body and rumpled feathers. I didn't like looking at it, not after seeing it twisting about as it died. I couldn't see the life spans of animals, and seeing death without being prepared for it made me somewhat nervous. It was as if there was no rightness in it, no finality.

I turned to go, leaving the bird as it was, and when I did I felt a light touch upon my hand, like being tapped with a piece of paper. I turned, thinking perhaps I'd brushed against a piece of newspaper sticking out of a trashcan, but there was nothing. Not even a breeze that could have caused something to float against me. I glanced around uncertainly, getting a slight chill.

"…_like cold blood on my skin…"_

Of course it was cold in the alley. The sunlight was blocked by the close buildings. I made my way back onto the sidewalk beside the road, and glanced over at the café to see Wammy sitting outside, chatting as he sipped his tea. L was crouched in a chair beside him with a cupcake in his hands, and I looked in the other direction. They both seemed sufficiently distracted, so I still had a bit of time to myself left.

A few stores further along I came upon a dark little book shop, set between a bakery and a clothing store. I probably would have overlooked it completely if it wasn't for the strings of beads and feathery dream-catchers in the window. As it was, I still didn't have much interest. I had paused in front of it for only a few seconds and would have kept walking, if I hadn't heard L's voice suddenly behind me.

"BB-kun," he said, and I twitched slightly as I turned to look at him. "Watari requests that you not wander so far away. He can hardly see you."

I sniffed, running my hand through my hair and mussing it up even more severely than it already was. I may have been ten-and-nearly-eleven years old, but I didn't feel like it, and I didn't appreciate being treated like I was. I _certainly _didn't appreciate L coming to tell me this either.

"B is fine on his own," I said, turning away from L to stare into the bookshop window again. "He doesn't need to be watched."

I jerked suddenly, looking back at L with wide eyes. _What_? Was he _chuckling _at me? He was certainly smiling, and rather creepily I might add, with his finger in his mouth and the smile stretching wide across his face but showing hardly any teeth. His laugh wasn't like mine, but it wasn't exactly pleasant.

"You like your independence, yes? Doing things on your own…" His eyes drifted briefly toward the bookshop as he lowered his head slightly, then looked back to me again, staring up from under his lashes. "Is it true what is said about your eyes? Do you see death BB-kun?"

"B already told you yes," I said, rather irritated. Perhaps it had been caused by the events that had taken place when I was younger, but I hated having myself questioned, and I hated been suspected of lying. "B already knows your real name and addressed you as such. What more proof do you want?"

"I do not mean it as any insult to you BB-kun. It's simply that…" he looked upwards, his finger hooked in his mouth. "I've considered the statistics, and the chances of such a mutation of the cells occurring as the ones that would be necessary to produce your abilities. I'm quite sure now that it simply isn't statistically possible. Not one in a million, a billion, or even several billion."

"What are you implying?" I said, rolling my wrists to crack them.

"Only that your eyes could not possibly occur as a _natural _mutation. They would have had to be influenced by an outside source following conception." He sighed, shaking his head. "It's that I can't figure out. What would have caused this in you?"

"B doesn't bother questioning it," I said. "It's pointless. These eyes won't go away, so why question them?"

"Oh, one must always question things BB-kun-"

I wasn't listening anymore. Something within the book shop had suddenly caught my eye, something I hadn't noticed before. It was a large skeleton, set in one of the shop's corners. However, this thing was far from the average imitation of human bone structure. It looked as if it was made almost solidly from metal and jewels. Though one could see the bones, sometimes overlaid with silver and gold, it was filled out to be more like an actual body, with glittering jewels covering the head, arms, hands, upper chest, and legs. Where the stomach should have been was empty, the boney feet were covered with silver, and there was a loincloth around the thing's middle, made of gold cloth and adorned with jewels. There were so many necklaces and bracelets upon it that I could hardly tell what was the skeleton and what was just the accessories. Surely those jewels couldn't possibly be real…they would be worth millions! Stunning as the thing was, what truly drew my attention was the eyes.

They were two thick rubies set in the skull's eye sockets, and I realized suddenly that they were the only red gems visible on the entire thing. I moved away from L, bringing my face closer to the window for a better look. What an odd place to set it, right in the way of the shelves. Some of the books were even blocked by its presence.

"…so therefore you never overlook anything and – BB-kun, are you listening?"

L came up closer beside me, peering into the shop as well, then alternating between that and looking up at me. "Has something caught your interest?"

"Oh no, not at all," I said, rolling my eyes. "B simply likes to stare blankly at jeweled skeletons he sees in book shops. They certainly aren't _interesting _to him."

"Jeweled skeletons?" L pressed his forehead against the window. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

I ignored him. He wasn't blind; he could see the thing just as well as I could. I left him behind to trail after me as I walked back to Wammy, motioning to us from the café. It was time to leave.

…

My tension toward L had done nothing but grow since the previous day, and on Sunday I was determined to avoid him, just to let myself calm. I didn't seek him out or try to discover where he spent his many hours out of sight. I kept to myself, and finished up Logic and Philosophy, which I had discovered had many of L's own "logical" thinking throughout it. He'd undoubtedly read the thing. What convinced me of that was the priceless line, "Question everything" for L certainly did enough of that. He was always questioning and doubting, giving me friendly smiles one moment and suspicious glances the next.

It was still irking me throughout the day what L had said while in Winchester, about my eyes "not being statistically possible". He might as well have called me a liar straight out, and I _hated _it. But it made me realize that I'd never questioned these eyes before; I'd never bothered to wonder why I had them, how they'd come to be, and why I was different. It sparked my curiosity, and I did a brief search through some medical books I found in the library, looking for records of unusual eyes. It wasn't a thorough search, so I wasn't at all surprised to find nothing that resembled my case whatsoever, except for first-hand accounts of acid trips.

I made my way up to the attic around noon, while the crows were still cawing on the roof as they ate their nuts, taking with me the collected medical works of Herophilos and a jar of jam. I opened the window wide, then sat against the wall opposite to it as I read. I'd left the ladder up to the attic down, since it was a particularly warm day and I wasn't planning on staying up there long. Now, to the reading. Ugh, this book was old. Far too much old English spelling for my taste…

There was a sudden squawk and a thump, and I peered over the top of the book. There, just below the window, was the body of a crow.

I set down the book, getting slowly to my feet and taking the jar with me, continuing to eat as I approached. It was holding perfectly still…surely it wasn't…but as I approached, I realized it was indeed dead. Perhaps it wasn't safe to go near, since I was beginning to suspect it was surely disease killing the things, but I found myself approaching anyway, reaching out to nudge it with my toe. It was like some kind of thrill to me, just poking it with my big toe and I began giggling a little, the sound choking up out of my throat. That awful laugh, but no one was around to hear it-

"Beyond."

I froze, looking slowly over my shoulder. L stood there watching me, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it. There was something accusatory about it, as if he…

"Wait a moment," I said. "Beyond didn't-"

"It is not often that birds simply fall in a small open window to die," said L. He came closer, looking down at the bird. "It is not often that bird's die from strangulation either. I would say this isn't a very good sign for you, Beyond Birthday."

"Beyond didn't kill it!" I snapped. "It just fell in the window dead! Beyond was over there, reading." I pointed toward the book, abandoned upon the floor. L gave it nothing but the briefest glance. He crouched down, tipping his head as he looked at the crow.

"I am 99 sure," he said. "And that is the real percentage. The 1 remaining is only because I wasn't here to actually see you kill it. But I think it best if Watari is informed of this."

"Don't you dare!" I said. I grabbed his collar with my free hand, jerking him up to his feet. "Don't you dare blame Beyond for this! Beyond didn't do it!"

L set his hands slowly on mine. "Don't threaten me."

"Same to you," I shoved him away, pushing my fist hard against his chest as I released his shirt. "Don't tell Wammy lies about Beyond!"

L stumbled as I shoved him, catching himself against the wall. His head was bowed, his hair veiling his face so I couldn't see his expression, but I did see his shoulders move as he inhaled heavily. "Beyond Birthday, I must ask that you stop threatening me."

"Then don't tell lies! You don't know what happened here!"

He straightened slowly, standing taller than I'd ever seen him. "Once is once."

"What-"

Before I could react he bent backwards, bracing his hands against the floor and pressing his upper back to the wall, then shoved his feet against my chest, hard enough not only to make me stumble but to cause me to fall on my backside with a _thump_. He'd pushed me no harder than I'd pushed him, but he'd done it so fast I could hardly believe it. His feet were back on the ground, his body still tense, rocking on his toes as if anticipating an attack. I clenched my fist, my nails scratching against the wood flooring.

"Once is once, Beyond-kun," he said. "No more. Let us stop here."

My face was burning with humiliation, and I could feel myself shaking. How darehe, how _dare _he do this to me. I wasn't going to let him tell lies about me, _shove _me…

I cleared my face of any expression. "Fine," I said. "No more. Go ahead and tell Wammy lies about Beyond. Just go away."

L swung up to his feet. He watched me for a moment, but I kept my eyes off of him, staring at the grains in the floorboards. He began to walk away, back toward the stairs leading down out of the attic. Right as he reached the edge…

I leapt up and pushed him down. I was _supposed _to have hit him in the back, but he'd heard me moving as I got up and had turned halfway to meet me, so I shoved his side instead. Yet somehow the wretched boy grabbed onto my wrist, and pulled me down with him. We hit the steps hard, tumbling over each other until we landed heavily at the bottom in a tangled heap. L groaned softly, and it was no wonder, since I felt like I'd been kicked all over and I was sure he felt the same. I blinked dazedly, still clutching the open jam jar in my hand, and being upside down I found myself looking at the jam-covered steps at an odd angle. There was some weird pressure on my chest…

Then I realized. It was L. Laying _on top of me_.

I cannot even express how much it infuriated me. There are simply no words for it. Being laid upon by someone does not put you in a good position! It is not in charge, it is not in control. There was no way I was going to allow it for another moment.

I cracked the glass jam jar over his head, completely shattering it and sending jam everywhere. It didn't _exactly _have the effect I wanted. You see, I'd been hoping it would get him off me.

Well it didn't. Instead it knocked him out cold, and his head went limp, falling against me in such a way that his forehead hit me hard on the nose. I really hated him right then.

* * *

_L saying he never gives percentages unless he's 90 sure in his own mind: this was said in Death Note 13: How to Read, page 70. According to that, L's percentages are really just lies, and if he gives one it means he's already at least 90 sure. The reason I had him actually admit to B that his first percentage wasn't true was because I thought of it as his competitive streak coming through after the way Beyond reacted to the first percentage._

_The crows cracking nuts on the roof: you've seen crows do this right? They'll collect nuts and drop them in the road most often, to crack them open._

_Also, in reference to B really not liking having L on top of him, that part was inspired by "Ryuzaki's" line in the novel, on page 82. He said he was an "aggressive top" and had "never once been submissive"._


	4. Years

_I know it's taken me a bit longer than usual to put up this chapter, sorry :) But it is up now, and I hope it is enjoyed._

_For a while this gave me awful trouble and I was thinking "Why did I ever start this story?", but then I did what usually helps me when I'm stuck like that. I erased the whole chapter, saved it, and closed out the page. I took a break, listened to some rap music (a genre that helps me forget about writing for a while and just chill), came back, and WHOO! Inspiration returned. (Plus I got some very, very nice reviews from you guys that made me all happy. Thanks so much to all the reviewers; I'll reply to you when the story is finished, so I can give responses of a decent length.)_

_Oh yeah, those tornados that touched down just a few towns away from where I live were a bit distracting. Tornados in freaking southern California? More than one? Pouring rain when it's almost June?! What the freaking heck is going on? I want my summer heat back!_

_Ahem. Anyway…_

* * *

I can't even begin to tell you how…vexed…Wammy was following the jam jar incident. I suppose any normal person would have been, if they'd found their two genius children covered in red stains and surrounded by shattered glass, one of them unconscious. It didn't really help matters that the unconscious one just _happened _to be his first-boy and was now sporting an inch long bloody gash across his forehead, an injury that was actually on account of falling at a bad angle upon the stairs and wasn't to be blamed on me for shattering a glass jar over his head.

Really, it just _looked _messy. It wasn't all that bad.

"Now, Beyond thinks this a terrible over-reaction from everyone involved!" I said, calling over my shoulder as I sat on a stool facing the wall. I don't think Wammy really knew what else to do with me, considering he wanted to make sure L was cared for properly as soon as possible. "He's perfectly all right you know. He still has plenty of life left!" I huffed, folding my arms in irritation. "Beyond didn't kill him. Perhaps from now on L won't threaten to tell _lies _about Beyond. Perhaps he won't think he's so wonderfully spectacular, perhaps now he won't think he knows so very much. L is brilliant and all, but he doesn't know _everything_." I paused. "Are you listening?"

"Beyond Birthday," Wammy's voice was stern as it came to me. "Now is hardly the time to be giving me excuses and trying to insult L. You could have killed the boy!"

Again. Others simply didn't get it. I didn't kill him, because I _couldn't _kill him. His life wasn't ending yet, what about that was so hard to understand? Even if he had died, it wouldn't have really been my fault, because it would have meant his life had simply run out anyway. Ugh, foolish, foolish, foolish man!

One doctor's visit to the house later and L was lying in bed, quiet but awake, with three black stitches across his forehead. I thought it looked rather cool, and I really wished I could have watched the doctor stitch him up. Alas, my face was to remain stuffed in corner as I "contemplated my most heinous actions", as Wammy put it. I was kept under close supervision the entire time, which meant I had to stay in L's room to serve my sentence, since that was where Wammy was, hovering at L's bedside.

"You two," he began, sounding exasperated. "I've heard the story from both sides, mind you! I see what went on here well enough! This was a petty thing to fight over –" I thought it petty to scold over as well "- and I want the both of you to apologize to each other. Beyond you were far too violent, and L, you cannot tell me you didn't bait him into it. If you suspected there was foul play in the crow's death you are more than smart enough to have come to me quietly. Now just _what _was behind that?"

"I can't apologize Watari," said L, sipping at a vanilla milkshake the man had brought him. "I'm not sorry at all. The incident did get somewhat out of hand, but it proved to be an interesting experiment, as I suspected it would be."

In my corner I glared furiously at the wall. "Beyond has told you before he is not a bug under a microscope. Must he now remind you he isn't a lab rat in a cage? He does not like being examined and he does not like being _experimented _on!"

"Oh, well then I'll apologize if I insulted you Beyond-kun, that wasn't my intention. I simply wanted to see your reaction. You do have a wonderfully quick mind after all, and your acting is nearly perfect. Such violence as what you displayed however…I wasn't quite expecting it…"

I could just picture him staring up at the ceiling with his thumbnail between his teeth. That little brat. I heard Wammy sigh. "It's not at all kind to toy with people L. You shouldn't be doing such a thing."

"It's frustrating," said L. "Watari, Beyond-kun is not an easy individual to understand. He has eluded my comprehension. I simply can't quite get into his mind." His tone turned accusatory. "It's a very angering predicament."

I smirked, feeling terribly cocky to know that I'd frustrated L. Apparently Wammy wasn't finding any amusement in the situation. "Alright, that's enough from both of you. Beyond, come over here." I got to my feet, coming over to stand beside the bed. "Now, I want apologies to one another. At once. There is to be decent human behavior in this house."

The two of us simply looked at one another for several long moments, each of us waiting for the other to crack and say sorry first. Well, I'll have you know I did not "crack", I simply rose to the occasion. After all, I've always been one to rather enjoy the dramatic.

I flopped down to my knees, leaned upon the bed, and said as sweetly as I possibly could, "L, Beyond is so _very _sorry for pushing you down the stairs and breaking a jar over your head after you threatened to tell lies about him and pushed him. Beyond's actions were so very clearly wrong that it shames him to think of them." I grinned, and couldn't stop the slight sadistic tone that slipped into my voice. "After all, it was so very awful to see you bleeding like that. Beyond _truly _regrets it with his entire bloody heart."

I felt Wammy's hand on my shoulder. "That's quite enough from you."

I raised my eyebrows quickly in L's direction, a little "top that" challenge. L was silent a moment longer, before he sighed heavily and said, "Well I suppose I'm sorry for defending myself when I was threatened and for…'misinterpreting' a situation in which the culprit in any other circumstance would have been painfully obvious. I should have of course known that Beyond Birthday, the boy with the most innocent mind imaginable, couldn't possibly ever kill a bird, and poking said dead bird while giggling is certainly not to be taken as a sign of guilt."

Wammy gave us both steady glares, and I had to wonder if he'd really known what he was getting himself into when he put L and me in the same house together.

…

In the time between my eleventh birthday, which occurred mere days after the jam jar incident, and my fourteenth year, L and I went head-to-head. It was a tireless duel, but one kept undercover, lest Wammy discover its intensity and think he had to stop it somehow. It started about a week after L was finally up and about out of bed, just after school lessons had ended and I'd gone through the day with a smile plastered on my face as L handed in paper after paper just before me. I calmly marched my schoolbooks to my room, then went to his door and opened it just wide enough for me to slip inside and shut it behind me. He was sitting upon the bed when I came in, eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream piled with peaches and whipped cream, but he paused with the spoon hanging in his mouth as I entered.

"You know what Beyond would love to do?" I said, approaching him with a casual stroll. He blinked twice, slowly licking ice cream from his spoon handle as I went on. "Beyond would love to get inside your head and see how that wretched brain of yours functions." I cracked my neck, my eyes widening. "After all, you never fail to be quicker than him. It would be wonderful to know how you manage that."

I looked about the room, which wasn't really any different than mine except for it being a bit messier, with the occasional candy wrapper lying about. I went over to his closet, fully prepared to examine every last inch of the room. Just what was his secret? Where had he come from, what made him always better? The only way I could outdo this boy was if I knew him well, and that would have to start here. "So, you wear the same clothes every single day, but surely you have other –" I stopped the moment I opened the closet doors. White shirts and faded blue jeans. There was _nothing _else. I glanced back at him.

"I see no need for variety," he said. "But may I ask just what it is you're doing Beyond-kun?"

I pulled down one of the shirts and jeans, beginning to slip out of the clothes I was already wearing. "You can not possibly think that I'm just going to sit around this house quietly," I said. "Not after what you did."

"I don't consider my 'crime' that grave a matter Beyond-kun. _I'm _not the one who was being excessively violent."

I pulled on his clothes, so big on me that it felt as if I was being draped in curtains. "Answer something for Beyond, L. Would you have baited _any _child who Wammy brought here?"

"Not necessarily."

I walked over the bed to lean close to his face. "Then what makes Beyond different?"

He tapped the spoon against his lip. "I already told you that. I can't understand you, nor make sense of your mind. It frustrates me. I was simply investigating."

I chuckled softly, a low throaty sound. "Ah, so Beyond is one of your cases, is that it? You're trying to solve him?"

"Yes, and I believe it is much the same for you," he said. "I'm a case for you as well, and both of us are trying to solve each other. It's…lets see…like a puzzle. L and B's puzzle. We're trying to figure out how it can all work together, yes?"

My eyes narrowed. "Beyond supposes so."

"But, if you _really _want to know how I'm able to do better than you in classes," he held up the ice cream bowl close to my face. "It's sugar." I raised an eyebrow skeptically, and he went on. "I would suggest a cup of caffeinated coffee, with one sugar cube for every third of a cup of liquid. You should try it. Consuming refined sugar in concentrated amounts rather than natural sugar in jam should stimulate your mind better."

I left the room without another word. I'd never been a coffee drinker, but if that was _really _what helped him…

…

I regretted it. I really, really regretted it. L's suggested concoction stimulated my mind sure enough, but he had failed to tell me exactly what the effects of it would be. I could only say it was a good thing classes were over for the day, because I was in no shape to be learning anything. I couldn't sit still. My hands wouldn't stop moving, I was shaking unceasingly, and my words were all running together in an endless stream whenever I opened my mouth.

"You!" I found L in the common room, stacking lollipops into a pyramid, and stormed toward him. "You rotten little brat!"

"It isn't my fault you were ignorant about sugar-rushes," he said, not even giving me a glance. "I assumed you would have already known what large amounts of caffeine and sugar can do to your body if you aren't used to it. Besides, the action was justified. I never got you back for this cut you caused to my forehead."

I crouched down beside him and snatched a lollypop from the bottom of the pyramid. The entire thing collapsed beautifully right under his fingers, and he turned a very cold glare on me. "You aren't very likeable Beyond-kun."

"Well that makes two of us."

…

By the time I was twelve, the crows no longer came to the property to eat. It was only once in a while when a few lone birds would rest in the trees around the property, but they didn't stay long. Any that did linger about turned up dead, and it wasn't long before I had a little row of graves back in the trees beside the house, near the roots of the maple where I'd buried the first bird.

"You must have been a rather stupid crow," I said one day, patting down the dirt on a fresh grave. "Don't you get that this property is diseased? Or…something of the like?"

It was a rainy October day, just weeks away from L's thirteenth birthday. It was only for this brief amount of time between September and October that we were the same age. The trees were thick enough here that only little rain droplets were actually making their way through the leaves, so I was lingering outdoors. I didn't like being wet, but I enjoyed the smell of rain, that earthy scent it brought up out of the ground. I set down my shovel and closed my eyes as inhaled, my body relaxing.

A soft noise made me open them again. I couldn't be sure what it was…a step perhaps? A light weight on wet rotting leaves? And that…a whisper? A soft voice?

I got to my feet. Could it be L playing a trick on me? No, this would be too immature even for him. I pressed myself to the maple in front of me, peering back into the trees beyond it. The light was so dim and the foliage was thick, and though I had exceptional eyesight I couldn't see throughthings. But…was that something glittering I saw?

I made my way past the maple, trying to see what it was back there. And there was _something_, I was sure of it. The form was so faint, but it seemed as if something was standing there, upright and exceptionally tall.

There was a soft squawk, startling me a bit, and a crow suddenly hopped into view. Its beady black eyes were glittering, and I sighed heavily. Just a bird? Apparently so, and when I glanced back up the figure I had thought I'd seen was gone.

"You're an idiot, bird," I said. "You're going to end up dead if you stay here."

It flapped its wings, flying up to perch upon a limb above me, staring back into the darkness from where it had come. It squawked again, then multiple times, as if calling an alarm before it took flight once more and vanished up above the trees.

I'd been about to turn away, but something suddenly caught my eye. It was the same glittering I'd seen before, and this time I knew it couldn't be the crow. I made my way toward it and knelt down, brushing aside the leaves to find…a diamond.

A single, small, and finely-cut jewel. I picked it up curiously, looking it over as I rolled it upon my palm. I was beginning to get slightly uncomfortable, and this feeling…no, surely it was just the cold air. But it was as if I could feel something upon the back of my neck, like cold fingers sliding over my skin. Or something cold, wet, and thick…

I pocketed the gem and got to my feet, heading back to the house rather quickly. I felt that same chill on my back the whole time I went, right up until I closed the house's doors behind me.

…

Around my age one usually begins to question things, and I don't mean "Why is the sky blue" or "What makes the grass grow". These were more personal questions, wonderings about yourself and why you were this way or that way. For me, the questions were for my eyes. It was really hitting home now for me; _no one else _I'd ever known had eyes like mine. But could that possibly mean no one in history had had them?

I'd already looked through all the medical books available to me in the library, and I wasn't sure where else to turn. I would spend hours of my free time browsing through the shelves, trying to find something. But I wasn't even sure what to look for. What would these eyes of mine be called, how could they be classified? I had no name for them, I could only describe them.

It was about three in the afternoon, on a Friday, when I was to be found sitting in the library with piles of books around me, growing more and more frustrated by the minute. I couldn't find anything! Not one book mentioned any case like mine. This was no longer a simple want to me, a mere curiosity. It was a need. I _had _to know why I had these eyes. Perhaps this had been fueled by what L had said to me yesterday, when I'd come into his room to "borrow" some of his clothes again (I just kept them in my closet when I was done wearing them. He never got a thing back that I "borrowed".). He was collecting several files from upon his desk, and I heard him say as I took down the clothes, "I still cannot understand you, Beyond-kun. But perhaps that is to be blamed upon the fact that you don't seem to understand yourself."

It was the truth. I _didn't _understand myself. I didn't want him to be right about it, but he was. So my passion to study increased. I had to know. I couldn't go through my life unaware of the reasons for my own existence.

So there I was in the library, my left hand sticky with jam while my right flipped anxiously through dozens of books. Nothing, nothing, nothing! How could it be –

There was a thump, and my head jerked up from my reading. I'd left the library door open, but I hadn't noticed anyone come in. It sounded as if a book had fallen. I got to my feet, carefully maneuvering my way between the stacks of books, and peered into the first aisle. Ah, there. A rather large volume had managed to tumble from its shelf and lay open upon the floor, some of its pages being bent since it had fallen on them. I went over to collect it and hefted it up into my arms, looking at the page it had opened to. It seemed to be some kind of history book on the Aztecs, telling of the ritualistic human sacrifices they carried out. My eyes scanned quickly over the writing and then bloody illustration beside it, but then I paused. A particular passage had caught my eye.

"_In some accounts it is said the Priestess Mihaloa presided over the sacrifice of eighty thousand, judging the prisoners as they were brought to her. She was rumored to have the eyes of a demon lord and with them she could see the death of the world, knew the true name of every being brought to her, and could count the feathers of an eagle when it flew over the distant mountains. Her death eventually came about at the hands of her own people, who put her death for blasphemy. She was found guilty of participating in an underground cult that refused to worship the Aztec gods but instead made their sacrifices to a being called Calikarcha, supposedly the demon lord who had granted Mihaloa her eyes."_

It was unmistakable. The eyes Mihaloa was rumored to have were like my own. The description was too close for me to pass it off as nothing. So I wasn't the only one. There had been someone else.

But if this passage was true and the Priestess' eyes had been given to her by a demon lord, then that meant I had to have gotten my eyes the same way. But how? I'd never had contact with demons, and I'd had these eyes since before I could remember.

I marked the book's page, then took it with me back to my room after putting away the other books. Unfortunately, that small passage was the only mention of Mihaloa and such eyes as hers in the entire book, and I searched through it several times. I felt I had my answer, but what now? Where could I go from here?

…

I ceased to venture into the trees outside the house. Every time I did that feeling would return, that cold, thick, and wet touch. I eventually even avoided going outdoors at all, instead spending my time studying. Schoolwork, library books, L…everything. I watched, I read, and I learned. The house was my safe haven, protection from whatever it was that stalked these grounds. It was all my night-time fears of lurking monsters suddenly coming to life. I hadn't seen it, but I'd heard it and I'd witnessed what it could do. I was sure of it now; the birds weren't simply dying. Something was purposefully killing them.

Even when I turned thirteen, I still spent my nights locked in the library. In all the time I'd been in Wammy's House, I'd never spent a single night in my own room. I went to bed so late that I'd never been found out, though there were a few close calls when I would sometimes run into Wammy early in the morning when I was on my way from the library. But I'd get suspicious looks and nothing more.

It was nearly midnight one night when I finally gave up my studies and left my room to sleep for the night. But this night wasn't like the rest. I could tell, the moment I set foot on the cold tile outside my room, that something wasn't right. The chilling presence that had thus far kept only to the trees…it was suddenly close. It was within these walls, it was _in the house_.

I'd never had to face these things I was afraid of. In the back of my mind I'd acknowledged they weren't real, but now, in the darkness beneath the stairs, I could see it. The figure I'd glimpsed in the trees all those months ago, tall and upright, a soft glitter surrounding it. I could see its upper limb moving, an arm and a hand, and I could see the soft glow of a pipe, something red above its mouth catching the light to sparkle briefly before the embers dulled.

My breath caught. I couldn't see a name or a lifespan, so I knew immediately whatever it was that was waiting beneath those stairs wasn't human. I slowly put both hands over my mouth, encouraging myself to stay silent, and stepped away until I found my back pressed against a door. I fumbled for the knob and opened it, stepping back into the room. The lock upon the door was simple, but I turned it anyway, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I did.

"Beyond-kun?" a sleepy voice called to me, and I turned around. I was L's room I'd entered, and the boy was sitting up in bed, watching me as I kept my body weight pressed to the door. "It's rather late. What is it?"

"I was just going for a glass of water," I said quickly.

"Unfortunately you won't find any water in here."

I knew I couldn't go back outside this room. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. But what could I say to him now? He seemed to be waiting for me to go on, or to leave, but I just remained pressed against the door, listening for any approaching steps. There wasn't a sound, but that didn't mean the thing wasn't still out there.

L pushed back his blankets and got out of bed, hunching as he came toward me. That was his newest habit, curving his back as he walked and shortening his height by about three inches. I hid my hands behind my back as he approached, hoping he hadn't already noticed they were shaking.

"Unlock the door," he said, but instead I simply moved aside for him to do it himself. He opened the door and looked out into the hall, while I retreated to the bed and curled up among the pillows. Wretched, wretched fear! L looked back at me, and I knew immediately by his expression that he had seen nothing out of the ordinary outside the room.

I suddenly felt that same sick feeling I'd gotten when I was a child listening to my teacher say I had an overactive imagination. It was the feeling of being completely and utterly alone. Now I was the only one who could see this monster that was lurking in the halls, I was the only one who would be feeling this fear of it. I pinched my arm, trying to focus on that pain rather than on the fear and ill-feelings, hoping it would make my heart stop beating so fast. But only when L shut the door at last did I begin to calm.

"Will you be spending the night here Beyond-kun?" he asked.

"Yes," I mumbled my reply into the pillows. "Beyond's room is too cold."

"Ah. Then perhaps you could move over?"

I resituated myself so that was lying with my back against the headboard, and L crawled back under the covers, curling up into a fetal position and clamping his thumbnail between his teeth. It was refreshingly familiar, almost comforting, to see his name and lifespan. Not only that, but his room had no photographs on the walls, like the library did. It was calming to be able to feel the presence of only one other being in this room.

"What frightened you?" he asked softly. "I thought you were a bit too old to be scared of the dark."

"Beyond is _not _afraid of the dark," I said, and tugged at a bit of his hair in an attempt to release my frustration. "I already told you, Beyond's room was simply too cold."

"You'd already lied to me about being on your way to get a glass of water. I have a feeling that your newer excuse is a falsehood as well. Not only that, but you're still shaking. I'm not asking because I wish for a reason to make fun of you; I'd truly like to know what's going on in your mind."

In my mind…could that be all it was? My imagination? That voice I'd heard months ago in the trees and the figure waiting under the stairs; was it all an illusion? Could I have imagined it all? But it had seemed so real, and the feeling it gave me…it couldn't possibly be something I was imagining.

"I didn't come here to talk," I said. "Beyond just wants to sleep."

There were several long minutes of silence, during which time I was sure L had fallen asleep. I was straining to hear outside the room the whole while, but the house was so silent it was eerie. My mouth felt dry, and I was wishing terribly that I had strawberry jam right then. It was tempting to risk the halls and whatever it was lurking in them to go get a jar. I pressed my hands against my eyes angrily.

"I hate these eyes," I whispered. "Beyond doesn't want to see these wretched things."

"I'm sure many of us wish there were things we can't see, or haven't seen," said L softly, making me flinch in surprise. He sat up slightly, reaching over to the drawer upon his nightstand and withdrawing a red lollipop. He held it up to me. "It's strawberry flavor; perhaps it will help you stop shaking."

I took it slowly, already too embarrassed to manage a thank-you. The flavor wasn't as good as jam, obviously being only a fake strawberry taste, but the motion of licking it was comforting, reminding me of licking jam off my fingers.

"You know, I don't dislike you Beyond-kun," he said. "You're odd, and a very frustrating person at times, but I don't dislike you."

I pressed my face into his hair, letting the last of the chill that lingered over my body fade away. I certainly disliked him, and at times I completely hated him. But that didn't keep me from watching him, imitating his habits, mirroring his movements without even meaning to. It didn't keep me from listening to any advice he gave even though I hated to receive it, and it didn't stop me from idolizing him. I didn't want to _become _him, as I had supposedly been brought in this house to do. I didn't want to be his copy. I wanted to be better. Everything he was I would be that but more so. And I would surpass him even further than just outdoing him, for I had these demon's eyes that he could never have. I hated them, and I treasured them.

I suppose in that way these wretched eyes of mine…were something like L himself.

* * *

_You can find information on Calikarcha the Shinigami on page 51 of How to Read. I chose him simply because I thought he had an Aztec-like look to him. The human sacrifice of 80,000 supposedly really took place in Aztec history, though the number is suspected to have been exaggerated._

_That little scene where Beyond apologized to L…alright, I'll admit where I got the inspiration. Have you ever read Anne of Green Gables? If you have, or haven't, I was thinking of the scene where the very dramatic Anne falls to her knees to beg forgiveness from a nosey neighbor that she was rude to. I can't help but have this idea that B probably has a liking for the dramatic. I mean, sheesh, just look at all the trouble he went to with the murders in Another Note, as well as the "final murder". All very dramatic._

_And the last scene, no, this story isn't going to be shonen-ai (tempting as it is). Basically you can take it this way or that way, whichever way you want._


	5. The Jewel Skeleton

_Why yes, I have been procrastinating…but it was only a little…_

_I was a bit distracted from writing for a while with my want to get some good pictures of my Mello cosplay. I must have taken over a 100 pictures with my junky little camera. So that's why this chapter took so long (long for me anyway). By the way, some of those pictures (_cough_two_cough_) are on my deviantART account (the link is on my profile under "Homepage") if you want to check them out :)_

_Anyway, after a ridiculous delay, here is Chapter 5!_

* * *

Wammy's House was bound to take in new children sooner or later. The world is a big place, and out of the billions of people there were certain to be more than just two genius orphans. And so they came. Wammy was suddenly making more phone calls than ever, filling out forms and taking plane trips around the world, then returning with wretched little brilliant children to run around the house. L and I didn't really have much to do with them, other than first-day introductions. Now being fourteen myself and L fifteen, we even had our classes separate from the little ones. L had already achieved an education high enough to graduate high school so he was well into advanced college work, and I wasn't far behind. And those weren't the only things that were changing.

L and Watari had begun speaking of moving out of the House, leaving it in the care of Roger Ruvie permanently. L's exceptional work as a detective was well known now, and though he only took certain cases he was still busy almost constantly. He spent so much time by himself that sometimes it would be over a week until I saw him around the House. I suspected that during some of his absences he wasn't in the House at all, since Watari would be gone during these long disappearances as well. But if they were leaving, they kept very quiet about it.

I didn't really link anything together at first. To me, the new children and L's long absences were just normal changes that were bound to come over the years, and though I didn't like them I wasn't trying to stop them. But my ignorance changed when I found a list of the younger students' names and grades sitting upon a teacher's desk. It took me only a few minutes to realize, by the order in which the children's names were printed on the paper, that they were being ranked by their grades. There was a new first, and a new second….

So where did that put L and me? L was above such rankings, he was the heart of it all. And me…what had I achieved? If I wasn't second, did that mean I was no longer the next L? Just like that, the hope of achieving first was snatched away? Surely not. Not after how hard I'd worked, for so long, to be the perfect him, to be _better _than him at being himself. These new rankings couldn't possibly mean these _children_ were now being considered as heirs to L's name.

On one of the few occasions when L was actually in his room, I decided to see if I could get information out of him about it. He was seated at his computer, eating truffles off of a plate close at hand as he worked, writing up information on some case I supposed. I had entered without knocking, as usual, and went up behind him to place both of my hands on his head. He didn't need to see me to know who it was.

"Hello BB-kun," he said, using my alias as he always did now that the House was filling up and personal security was kept tighter. He continued tapping away at the computer keys with one hand, holding a truffle to his mouth with the other. I suddenly glimpsed a familiar file on his desk and snatched it up. The grades and rankings of all the House's children.

"Why do you have this?" I asked, looking it over disdainfully. It flashed through my mind that it was probably silly to feel this way, considering they were nothing but little children, all of them under ten. But L was gone enough as it was to be spending the time when he _was _here studying the brats. Not that I _missed _him, but it wasn't quite like it used to be. He would no longer study me, or ask me questions, or express frustration over not being able to understand me. It was as if suddenly I wasn't important, as if I wasn't a threat to his position and not even worth spending time on. But why would he have this sudden security?

"It is wisest to know about those I shall someday have to choose a successor from," he said, and I inhaled sharply. "I can't know them if I do not study them."

"What do you mean a successor?" I snapped. "_I'm _your successor! _I'm _the next you, the second! I always have been!"

"Now BB-kun, surely you knew this already? It shouldn't surprise you, or make you upset. You weren't ever my successor. You were my back-up, if I failed."

So that was it. That was why L no longer paid me the attention he used to. He hadn't failed, he'd succeeded. So the threat of being replaced with a back-up, with Plan B, no longer concerned him. Plan B hadn't been needed. All that was needed now were the plans that would come after, new plans that could serve the same purpose. Not identical plans in case the first one broke.

L glanced back at me, and I hissed between clenched teeth, "So you don't need me anymore."

"Not for this purpose."

I crouched down to the floor, pouring out the papers in the file in front of me. L kept watching me, his nail clicking as he chewed it. "I think Watari was planning to speak to you about it soon. You'll inherit some of his money, and he'll insure all the proper arrangements are made for you."

I found the paper on the child who was now the House's second. The picture showed a blond boy with a mischievous smirk upon his face, and I traced my finger lightly along the glossy photo. Mihael Keehl, now introducing himself to the entire world as Mello.

"Arrangements…" I said. "For me to leave? I'm being dismissed from the House?"

"We will not force you out," said L. "But we think it best if you live your own life soon. When your education is completed next year, Watari will assist you in your plans. You will no longer have to be second BB-kun. You can do whatever you wish, and even be first in it. You'll no longer be my shadow." He paused. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

I took Mihael Keehl's paper in my hands and folded it into fourths before tucking it into my pocket. "L, now that I'm not a threat to your position, are you no longer frustrated that you can't understand my mind? That you can make no sense of me? Does it no longer frustrate you that I am illogical and incomprehensible?"

There were several long moments of silence before he answered. "I have put my frustration on that matter to the back of my mind, but yes, it still irks me."

I got to my feet. "Then do you think, after working for nearly five years to outdo you, that all the passion I felt to succeed will simply fade? Do you think it will satisfy me to leave my goal unaccomplished?"

"No," he said, perfectly blunt. "It is my wish that it will fade, but I know that's not possible."

I nodded, and left his room without another word. That was it then. It had all been for nothing.

Of course I could have fussed about it all I wanted, but I already knew it wouldn't make a difference. It was far better to now rethink my plans, rather than clinging to the old ones. I would certainly be leaving this house as soon as I was able, but in no way did that mean I was giving up. L may have been a well known detective now, but he could still lose.

The younger children were in their beds by that time, and the halls were dark and quiet. I paused on my way to my room, glancing into the shadows under the stairway. As usual, there it was. The tall figure with its pipe softly glowing, though there was no scent of smoke in the house. I had avoided any nighttime trips to the library ever since the thing got into the house, but as the months had passed and it had never attempted to enter my room or threatened me, I'd begun to lose my fear of it. It was a normal thing for me to see now. Pictures on the wall, the carpet in the entryway, the figure under the stairs. And as I had lost my fear of it, I'd begun to wonder if perhaps it could be a demon, a _certain _demon who was missing his eyes…

I turned away from it, going to my room. Though my fear of it had faded, I'd never had the nerve to approach it. What purpose was there in being afraid? My life was already gone, wasted on L. Studying him, constantly fighting to keep us equal while still grasping at being better. I had _given my life _to that obsession! Why? Why had I done it?

Because in him I saw myself. I saw myself without these eyes; I saw a life I perhaps could have had. But no matter. I hadn't lost yet…

I shut myself into my room, looking about at the surroundings that were now so familiar to me. The schoolbooks upon my shelf now looked like a waste of space, and I was tempted to burn them. I could send it all up in smoke, the useless years I'd spent working toward a prize that was never going to be simply handed to me anyway. This prize, my goal, I now realized couldn't be won. It had to be stolen. It had to be torn away in an act of complete domination and victory.

But there was still the question of how that was to be done. If L and Watari were going to move out and disappear into a little cloud of secrecy, I would have to figure out a way to keep their attention on me. What good was a victory if no one was around to see it? So what would grab their attention; what would _force _them to watch me?

I didn't even pay attention to the soft sound I heard behind me. It was a big house, and there was always some kind of noise to be heard in it. So I thought nothing of the sound that was as feathery light as a slippered foot on a thick rug. I ignored the little chill I got over my arms, the prickly feeling on the back of my neck. But then it hit me. _That _feeling. Cold, thick, and wet, slithering over my skin.

There was a tap upon my nightstand and I glanced over. A skeleton hand, covered in silver and big jeweled rings tapped its sharp nails upon the wood, and I turned my head to face forward again, taking a slow breath as a cloud of pipe smoke encircled me.

"Hello Beyond Birthday."

I already had no doubt about what was standing behind me. The figure from under the stairs had finally made its move. And, after seeing its hand, I had a strong suspicion that it was also the skeleton I'd seen in the Winchester book shop all those years ago. But I would not show fear. I had no reason to be afraid.

"Are you a demon?" I asked, my voice quiet and trembling with excitement.

"Why don't you face me and find out, human boy?"

I turned slowly, my eyes widening as I took in the sight of him towering over me. The skeleton that had rubies for eyes was standing there right in my bedroom, smoking its pipe as it watched me. I smiled nervously, and he fluttered his fingers so that the rings upon them clacked together.

"What do you think? Would you say I'm a demon?"

"You certainly look like one," I said, still trying to absorb all his extravagance into my mind. The sparkling cut jewels and the sometimes shining and sometimes dull metals were quite an eye-full.

"Henh, henh, look at this," it said, _my_ laugh choking up from its throat. "The little human boy has decided to be brave." It leaned down, blowing a thick puff of smoke into my face, and I forced myself not to choke. Instead I twisted my mouth into a smirk, running my tongue over one canine as I stared up at him.

"Then that's what you are?" I said. "A demon? After all, things aren't always as they appear."

"Aye, you could that's what I am. Armonia Justin Beyondormason, the Jewel Skeleton." He clenched his free hand with a sound like snapping bones as the metal tapped together. "Perhaps I am a sort of demon. Humans seem to be so fond of calling us that. Among ourselves, we say we are Shinigami."

"'Us'? How many of you are there?" Excitement was coursing through me, making my heart race. This was it, it really was real! Surely here was the secret to my eyes, right in front of me speaking. Armonia took another puff on his pipe, and I watched as the smoke coursed down into his ribcage, filling the space before slowly seeping out between the bones.

"There are several dozen, maybe more," he said. "Our world is vast, and we've never counted our population." I became slightly distracted with the sound of his movement, the metal and jewels clinking and cracking, and I cracked my neck almost subconsciously, then rolled my wrists and shoulders, making him chuckle again. "You've been vastly interesting, Beyond Birthday. I didn't think I'd ever get involved in the human world, but I can't resist a good study session. So perhaps you'd now like to tell me that you don't like to be studied or examined, like a bug under a microscope. Henh, henh, henh."

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Why did you come to me now?"

"I thought it was simply time I got my diamond back," he said, and he opened the drawer upon the nightstand and took out the jewel I'd kept there ever since I found it hidden among the leaves last year. He pressed it into a small empty hole upon his face, working his jaw as if to get it into a comfortable position. "Not only that, but I thought it was about time for a small amount of intervention. After all, most great experiments need a bit of prodding from the scientist if anything is to become of them."

I glanced around cautiously, a chuckle rising up in my throat. The door was still shut (I'd never heard him open it), but what if someone was eavesdropping on the other side? Someone like L? This was _my _discovery and he absolutely could not share it.

"Perhaps you'd like a more private conversation somewhere," Armonia said, stepping back toward the door. He was positively massive, eight feet tall at least.

"You're willing to do that?" I said. "I mean…you'll talk to me?"

"I am not one to withhold information for the sake of entertainment," he said. I got to my feet and went to open the door, thinking he'd duck his head to pass out into the hall, but I was wrong. He stayed straight, and his head simply went through the wall. "I find it far more interesting to give information and see what is done with it, rather than withhold information and watch the chaos that ensues without it."

"You really did give me my eyes, didn't you?" I whispered, walking ahead of him to keep his attention focused on me. I already had in mind that we would go to the library, and he didn't answer me until we arrived there and the door was closed behind us.

"Aye," he said, picking up a book from one of the shelves. He flipped through the book with his bony fingers, his pipe clasped between his teeth. All he was missing was spectacles upon his bone of a nose and he would look like some kind of demented professor out of a horror movie. "I gave you the eyes. And do not flatter yourself by thinking you were chosen 'specially'. It was all simply chance."

"Tell me," I said, snatching the book out of his hands to force his attention onto me fully. "How did you give them to me? And why?"

He brought his face down closer to mine, clacking his teeth with a sharp sound in my face. "For one addressing a god of death," he said. "You are wretchedly, stupidly bold."

"Why should it matter to me what you are?" I said. "We are not so different, are we? You gave me your eyes, so you gave me a god of death's powers. You _made me _like you. Why should I be afraid? Or, why should I not be bold?"

He took his pipe from between his teeth, holding it in his hand as he studied me. Straightening once more, he made his way over to the corner chair, then took a seat upon it, lounging in such a slouched position that one would think it was his own personal throne. "What do you wish to gain from this human?" he said.

"Everything. This meeting, our conversation, is only the start. This is the beginning of everything I will achieve. So tell me. You wouldn't still be here if you didn't intend to. If you weren't interested in coming in contact with me, you wouldn't have been lurking about this house for so long."

"Henh, henh, alright. Enough demands human boy. I'll tell you. Let's see what you make out of this information."

…

"Firstly, I did not simply wake up one day and decide to give my eyes to a human who would pay me nothing in return. I am a seeker of knowledge and new things. Without me, my kind would know nothing of this modern human world. They are all too lazy to investigate for themselves, so I am the one who must know all and be able to give answers. I built the single door leading down to the human world, earning me the name Beyondormason, which is of course shortened from Beyond Door Mason. I was the mason, the builder, of the door that went beyond our realm."

"As a being to which others often come to have their questions answered, I must be able to tell them, without a doubt, what the rules of our world are. After all, making a mistake and giving them wrong information could cost them their lives. Now there was a particular Shinigami who had a tendency to grow fond of humans. He would watch them day after day through the windows to this world, and though he'd never actually gone so far as to save one from death, he was very tempted. I'd made it clear to him that prolonging a human's life was against the rules and would result in his death, so he began to attempt to find ways around it, by not _directly_ prolonging a life. One day he asked me if it was possible to give a human our eyes without making them give up half their life in return, for that was the set price among us for the gift of our sight. That was a question I had no answer for, so I left our realm to find the truth."

Armonia stopped, taking a long puff upon his pipe. I thought surely he was going to continue, but he just sat there without another word. "Tell me the rest," I said. "That can't be all there is."

Armonia's bones creaked as he shifted in his seat. "Well, it came down to being between you and another child. I chose to grant these eyes to a young human so that if their lifespan was halved it would be an obvious change, rather than the small changes that simply occur because of one's own choices and the choices of others. In fact," he inhaled another breath of smoke, "I had considered the other boy in this house, L Lawliet. It was between you and him that I had to choose from in the end." He chuckled. "I've found that humans who have been influenced by Shinigami have a habit of finding each other, and of coming together in one way or another."

"So you chose me over L," I said, a proud smirk upon my face as I stared out the windows. I was crouched upon the floor, my head flopped down upon one shoulder as I took it all in. "Why?"

"I did not wish to have only one question answered on this excursion. I wanted to see how a human with a Shinigami's eyes would get along in this world. For that I needed a clean slate to work with, a human younger than L. It was simple coincidence that at the same moment L was watching his mother die in the hospital, you were about to be born only a few rooms away in the same building." He waved his hand dismissively. "Luck and chance, boy."

I didn't bother to disguise my laugh as it came up out of my throat. "I was indeed a better choice than L," I said. "He would have wasted these eyes. He fights against death every day, rather than embracing it as something natural. To him it's a _bad _thing."

"Humans have drifted so far from how they once were," said Armonia, shaking his head. "The ancient cultures were obsessed with death and thought of it as a gift. Just look at the Egyptians, and the great monuments they built. They spent their lives preparing to die. It can only be described as shameful how humans behave these days. They are pathetic in death. The ancients died with honor and nobility. It made being a Shinigami so much more interesting."

"And no doubt far less of a trashy job as well," I said. "It is quite dirty work to kill a human that squirms and fights you, isn't it?"

"Indeed," he got up from his seat, and I straightened my head to get a better view of him. "But look at you Beyond. Like a little relic from the past. A worshipper of death. Your name suits you. You bear a mind from beyond your birthday."

"So what shall you do now?" I said. "You've watched me for all my life haven't you? And now you've given me the secret to these eyes…"

"Oh I intend to stay around a bit longer Beyond," he said, and though he lacked lips it seemed he was smiling. "I shall see this experiment through to its finish."

"And the finish is close, isn't it?" I said excitedly. "We're nearing the end, the grand finale. You can see it can't you, my life ticking down? Well, Armonia Justin, I intend to give a finale like no other. I fear I got rather caught up in trying to live. Obsessing over L and trying to outdo him in life, what good will that do me? But you have inspired me. I know how to overcome him now."

I got to my feet and made my way toward the door, hearing Armonia following behind me as I continued to speak. "Everything L is, I can be that to the extreme. L can see what others overlook, but B can see what isn't even there. L can tell how a death occurred, but I can _understand _how it occurred. L can fight to live, but I….henh, henh, henh….I can die."

…

As I made my way back out to the stairway and up the steps, I took the folded-up file out of my pocket. Mihael Keehl's room number was printed right on it, as I'd hoped, and I found his room easily. I suddenly felt that, even if Armonia was not only a few steps behind me, I would not have felt the least bit afraid of these halls. I really had become so distracted with "living", but no longer. It was no wonder I'd been losing to L all this time; I'd been trying to play on his level, when I was capable of competing with higher stakes and more dangerous surroundings.

"Let's up the ante a bit L," I said softly, standing outside the room where little "Mello" lay asleep. The boy who'd taken my place as second…

Behind me, Armonia tucked his pipe into his belt. "It's about time Beyond. I've always wondered when you'd attempt your first kill."

* * *

_I know some of you already got that it was Armonia haunting Beyond, so let me just explain a few things about him real quick._

_I originally decided on it being him because I just thought he was cool and because he didn't have actual eyes, but then I looked up his information in How To Read and was thrilled to see that he actually had "Beyond" in his name. It was so perfect :) Also according to How To Read, Armonia hates crows, hence the poor birdies getting killed. As for him killing them by strangulation, I chose that simply because Beyond's first murder in Another Note was done by strangulation. In Armonia's volume 13 profile it also says he is sometimes seen smoking._

_I know it says in How To Read that Armonia isn't very inquisitive, but I can't help but view him as one who is often seeking answers and information, like a scientist, considering his intelligence is so high. And who knows, maybe he was bored…_

_Also, though Beyond has Shinigami eyes in this story he can't automatically see Shinigami. Armonia touched him with a piece of a Death Note in the Winchester alley. _

_The Shinigami who would obsess over humans that Armonia referred to was Gelus._


	6. Unsolvable

_Could it be? The second to last chapter?!_

_Why…yes. It is. I know, right when things start really happening it's nearing the end. Unfortunately I can't really make it longer without rambling and I'm not prepared to turn it into a complete AU and drag it out by making the plot deviate from the original. I just don't have the inspiration for it. Still, this has turned out to be the longest fan fiction I've written so far (in number of words), and I can still think of plenty of things I would have liked to do differently that would have made it even longer. There were so many little quirks of BB's that I could have used and expanded upon but I ended up forgetting about them. Oh well. I certainly know him better now that I've written this, so the next time I write a story starring Beyond Birthday I'll be able to do it even better._

_Here is Chapter 6!_

* * *

The bedroom window's shade had been drawn for the night, so the only light by which I could see came from the open door. Mello was buried almost completely beneath his blankets, with only a little bit of blond hair splayed across the pillow. I heard the Shinigami's words behind me as he spoke of me attempting my first kill, and I shook my head.

"Don't be ridiculous Armonia," I said, going over to the bedside. "Even if I didn't know that at this point it would be impossible to kill him, I still wouldn't attempt it. He will be no different from me." I carefully pulled the blanket away from his face, crouching to get a closer view of it. He looked quite a bit different from me, with a face that was all bright happy childhood, rather like a kitten or some other mischievous little creature. I brushed his hair out of his face, saying softly, "He'll never choose you either, Mihael. I know already that he won't. You'll work hard for so long for it, like me, but you'll have it torn away."

Armonia chuckled behind me, leaning over to get a look at the boy. "Misery likes company, is that it Beyond?"

"Not at all. I am not miserable Armonia. In fact, I'm glad this has happened. It's snapped me out of my disillusionment. It's a good thing you chose to come to me now, since otherwise I don't know how long it would have taken me get my plans in order. But this poor little one…" I stroked my fingers across his forehead. "…Who will inspire him when all he has worked for is not given? To whom can he look for hope? I will leave behind a legacy for him, Armonia. Though we will not be chosen, we will overcome regardless. And he will know my story. Whatever he makes of it and whatever he thinks of me won't matter. All that matters is that he will see that I overcame L. L has his heirs, but this one is mine. He will be the deviant one, the one who goes beyond all expectations in the end."

"Oh? Will he indeed? How are so sure?"

"I can see it," I said, and that was truly the only way I could describe it. I'd seen the boy's IQ printed on his paper, and indeed it was impressive…but not so impressive that it was off the charts. I'd glimpsed the other children's papers as well, and some of them had intelligence higher than his yet they were far below his rank. That told me little Mihael was one who _worked _for what he had, who gave his all in an attempt to achieve his goals. He gave his life to it, much like me. So which would win out in the end, passion or natural ability? Well, we'd soon see wouldn't we?

What a lovely little drama this was becoming. It was such a fantastic idea, to leave behind someone who could carry on as I had after I left this place. It was true that there was no _absolute _guarantee that this boy would accomplish what I was imagining for him, considering he didn't know me as anything other than "BB, the second oldest boy in the House". But I would make sure he knew me a bit better than that, before I left.

The boy groaned softly, beginning to move about in his sleep, and I caught his hand gently as he began to settle down. "They'll see," I said softly. "So sleep well Mihael. We won't be second for long."

…

The very next morning, after the crowded and busy breakfast was over, I asked Wammy if we could speak privately and followed him back to his office. Armonia was close behind me the whole while, the quiet smoking giant who watched my actions with the vaguest of interest. He had assured me it was perfectly safe for him to walk about the house in broad daylight, as none of the other humans there could see or hear him. After spending the morning meal with one eye on Mello and the other on L, I was more than ready to continue setting things in motion.

"I'd like to speak to you about my inheritance," I said, the moment Wammy and I were safely inside his quiet office. The man took a seat behind his desk and I perched in the chair in front of it, crouching on my toes with my hands upon my knees as L did. I didn't even have to think about doing the action anymore; it was now just habit.

Wammy watched me carefully a moment, then said, "Well, I plan on you receiving it when you legally come of age. I transferred the money that will go to you into a high-interest bank account not long after I adopted you, and it has been there since then."

"L mentioned that you wished to speak to me soon of when I shall be leaving the house. How will that be arranged?"

Wammy sighed, pressing his fingers together into a steeple and pointing them towards me. "L said this to you recently?"

"Last night."

"I'm sure the boy undoubtedly put it a bit bluntly," Wammy picked up a pen from the desk, tapping it against the wood as he went on. "What I was hoping to speak to you of at sometime in the future, BB, was whether or not you shall be taking a college education away from this house. And of course, the teen years are a good time to discuss one's future plans. I am not, if you assumed this, planning on making you leave the house as soon as possible."

"L told me you wouldn't force me out, but…" I cracked my knuckles in an attempt to release some of the anger that was rising in me. "…he did make it seem that you intended for me to leave soon, and that I was no longer needed here. He said I won't be taking his place…is that true?"

"Ah, well, BB you see…"

And on he went, so I stopped paying attention. I already understood why I wasn't needed here anymore and I wasn't bothered by _that_. What bothered me was the way L had told me, twisting his words as if he was trying to make it seem like I had to leave at once. It suddenly occurred to me, right then, that if L was truly so secure in his position, why would he want me out of the house? And surely he did want that too, which was something new for him. He'd never before expressed that he didn't want me around. What was different now?

I left the office as soon as I could, now knowing what I had sought through that conversation: the location of my inheritance money. But there was other new information in my head as well, the realization that L – most likely – actually wanted me out of the house, and it was pricking at my mind and wouldn't leave me alone. This didn't disrupt my plans of course, but I was curious…

…

Though Armonia continued to follow me about, it was nearly a week until he said another word to me. He seemed perfectly content to smoke and watch, but I suppose my lack of action was getting him a bit antsy. After all, since speaking with Wammy it would seem I'd done nothing else besides tending to my studies.

"So what comes next, boy?" he said, standing beside me as I crouched on the grass outside, watching a soccer match between the younger children. Mello was among them, which was in truth the only reason I'd come out here. "If you truly know how to overcome L, as you said, then why haven't you done it yet?"

"I'm just making some final preparations," I said. "I can't act until I'm free of this place."

"And just when are you planning on that happening?"

"Tonight." I got to my feet, making my way across the grass and stopping the ball with my foot as it came my way. Only one child among the group dared protest my interruption; the others gave each other nervous looks and probably would have scattered like startled birds if I'd made any sudden moves.

"Hey! We're _playing _here, can't you see that?" said Mello, coming up to me and staring at me with his hands on his hips. "You can't just interrupt!"

I crouched down to his level, meeting his angry glare straight on. I found children so much more fascinating than adults, being at a point where they were closest to "living" as I'd ever acknowledge a human could possibly be. Most of them didn't think of death, they didn't worry over it, and it didn't concern them in the least. They were oblivious and naïve, living in their own little world where life was the only option.

"Well?" he said, pointing to the soccer ball demandingly. "Give it back!"

I grabbed his arms suddenly, not in a rough way, but quickly enough to make him jump. I felt as if I shouldn't have been touching him, as if I truly was Death trying to drag Life down to my level. But that was just the useless teachings of those who fought against death weighing me down. "Mihael," I said. "Are you second here?"

"Y-yes," he frowned at me strangely. "You know, you're not supposed to know my name and you are _not _supposed to say it. It's against the rules."

"Why are you second?"

He stiffened, his eyes flickering about a moment. "Well…it's because…I guess, because I'm not good enough to be first…"

"Don't ever think that!" I said, jerking him closer to me until our foreheads touched. "Others may be doing better than you, but that isn't because you aren't _good enough_ to outdo them. You want to be the next L don't you?"

"Of course," he said, rolling his eyes. "I want it more than anyone."

I couldn't help but grin at his confidence. "But you can't just be the next him, you need to be _better_."

"I know," he said, beginning to squirm a little against my hold, finally becoming uncomfortable with the situation. "Would you let go of me now? I need to finish the game."

I released his arms and the ball, having already said what I needed to. It wasn't much, but it was a start. At least I'd put the right ideas into his head. The rest was up to him, and to tell the truth I felt quite good about it. I was going to defeat L on every level. Not only was _I _going to overcome him, but Mello, who I'd chosen, would as well. He had the right passion for it. When he got older I found it quite likely that he would have a mind which would choose death over defeat, which was perfect.

…

My next mission waited until nightfall, when I snuck into Wammy's office and scoured through his files until I found my records and the account number for the bank account that held my inheritance. I copied down the numbers and put everything back exactly as it had been, taking extra care to insure no evidence was left. I – literally – couldn't afford to have Wammy withdraw the money from my account when he discovered I had left; that is, if he had any suspicions that I would have free access to it.

But just as I was about to leave the room, I glimpsed a bare foot just outside, standing to the side of the doorway. I wrapped my fingers around the doorframe, swinging my face around to come eye-to-eye with L as he stood there sipping a small cup of tea. "Do you _enjoy _randomly popping up wherever I go?" I said.

"I was simply monitoring the situation," he said. "Sneaking into someone's private office under the cover of darkness is usually not done with good intentions."

I hadn't spoken to him since the day he told me I was no longer needed here. I had intended to before I left, but now that it had come to it so suddenly I wasn't sure what to say. There were _plenty _of things I could have said, and certainly wanted to say, but I wanted to make a lasting impression with these final words. I wanted it to be a great prelude to what was to come.

"BB-kun, I think perhaps it may have upset you that I followed you here," said L, cutting off my thoughts. "But I wished to tell you something-"

"Don't bother," I said, standing in front of him and placing both hands on either side of his body. "I'm not interested in what you have to say L. I'm done with this place, and I'm done with you. I am going to depart this very night, and I'm leaving a legacy behind."

"Are you referring to Mello?" he asked, and my eyes widened a bit. "I've noticed you watching him for several days, and then I saw you speak to him this evening."

"He will be just like me," I said. "That boy has been cursed to feel what I felt all these years. He has been cursed to suffer through being second, through being put down as a being lesser than someone else! Do not think he will be a shadow forever! I'm going to give him hope. You'll see. You rejected me, and in the same way you'll reject Mello by not choosing him as your successor. But you cannot underestimate the shadows. You'll never solve me. And Mello? You just wait and see what becomes of him! He will do what you never could! He will outlive you, and pass you by, and solve a puzzle you never could."

"And what of you BB-kun?" he said softly. "What will become of you?"

"What will become of me?" I said, and laughed in his face. "I will become the first puzzle you'll never solve. In fact, I already am! You will never solve me, L. B is one puzzle you cannot complete. And, oh…it is one puzzle you can never throw away. You've already made it perfectly clear to me that you do not want me in this house, but do not think I will stay silent once I'm gone. You will not throw me away and you will not write me off as nothing! You can't ignore me L! I won't allow it! Every assumption you have about me, every theory, everything you _think _you know, I will shatter it! I am beyond your expectations, beyond your comprehension, and beyond _you_! Don't you know the alphabet? L is after B! L is After Beyond Birthday."

I was breathing hard, all the frustration in me suddenly rising up and blocking out all else. From the start he'd been a rival because I'd been put below him. I didn't hate him. I'd never hated him and I _would never_ hate him. I couldn't. But he was everything in my life I'd tried to escape and everything I'd chased after. He was the suspicious looks I'd been given in my childhood, he was the people who accused me of lying, he was the people who studied me and wondered if all I said could possibly be true. At the same time he held the trust of other's that I wished was mine, he had high standards that I wished I could meet. But it shouldn't matter. It _didn't _matter! I was above this life, I was beyond it, I didn't care about it…

"Don't forget that you haven't won against me L," I said. "Don't _ever _forget it! You never solved me, and until you do…" I brought my face down close to his ear and whispered, "…you are nothing."

I backed away, leaving him standing against the wall as he watched me go. He didn't say a word to me, and I didn't look back. This life was worthless, I told myself, but all that I wanted could be embraced in death.

"It'll be nice to have a Shinigami by my side," I said, as I walked through the streets that night. "After all, you've been looking after me for quite a while now, haven't you Armonia?"

"What gives you that idea?" he said, having lit up his pipe again and was speaking with it clenched between his teeth.

"Well the books of course," I said. "When I was first taken to Wammy's House. You made sure I got the key to the library and my schoolbooks…"

He chuckled. "You're wrong there, boy. I have no interest in helping you with your petty human needs. The books and the key weren't my doing, or the doing of any Shinigami."

My small smile slowly faded. "It wasn't you? Then who…who else would have…?"

"I was watching you from the Shinigami realm at the time," he said. "But if I recall correctly…it was L Lawliet."

…

I suppose I could tell you in detail how I lived the next eight years of my life, planning, plotting, and obsessing. I could tell you how I managed to get every last bill of money out of that bank account and bought my various hideouts around the world as I searched for the perfect place throw myself full force into this intricate plot I was about to create. I could tell you of the nights I spent staring out my window and watching the death all around me, musing over the idea that I was just like a Shinigami looking down upon the human world from that "other realm" Armonia sometimes spoke of. I suppose I could tell you of how I avoided being found even after my disappearance was reported, taking on various identities and getting black market fake IDs. I could tell you of how much I began to enjoy taking on the various roles, melding perfectly into this persona and then this, until I couldn't even be sure what I would be like if I was just myself. When I was alone, locked away in my private rooms, I was never anyone else but L. I would sit crouched at the kitchen table, eating jar after jar of jam and downing cups of sugar-filled caffeinated coffee until my body was so used to it that I no longer got headaches and jitters, but would instead simply crave the stuff.

But you don't really want to hear about all that, do you? It would just bore you, so I might as well get right to the event that actually had some substance and purpose.

Believe Bridesmaid.

Now spending years planning a murder is one thing, and of course after so long thinking about it, imagining it, running through every possible scenario in my mind, I thought I was quite ready. After all, I wasn't _really _killing him. If I didn't do it, he'd still die anyway because his life had simply run out. If it wasn't me it would be something else, so it might as well be me. What an honor it was for Mr. Bridesmaid anyway, to be such an important part of this puzzle.

It wasn't really murder, you must understand that.

Oh yes, you're probably wondering where I finally settled down, what place I chose to host this game. It was LA, of course, and for a fantastic reason. You see LABB is "L is After Beyond Birthday". I thought that particularly brilliant and couldn't pass it up, so Los Angeles it was.

At any rate, I'd been watching Believe for several days, seeing his life slowing coming to its end, seeing how every day he walked a bit more slowly and stiffly out to his mailbox. At this point it was still quite easy to be all business about it. Oh yes, I would think, I shall do this and that and he shall be dead. How nice and quick and simple it shall be.

Well, no. Killing someone isn't simple even if they were going to die regardless of your interference.

I was L that day, as I waited for Believe's mail to be delivered and then collected it to take it up to his door. The man answered rather slowly, looking winded when he opened the door. I held out the mail.

"I heard from a neighbor you were sick, sir," I said. "I just thought I'd bring you your mail."

I suppose that was rather dirty of me. It certainly was a nasty trick, rather low-handed. But it worked. It was so easy it disturbed me. Just a quick movement, holding the drug-dampened cloth over his nose for a few brief seconds, and he simply flopped to the ground. He was already quite weak…

I dragged him back inside and locked the door, then went around the house and locked every window as well, before I took a seat crouched upon his bed as I stared down at him, watching his life drawing closer and closer to a close. Armonia sat beside me, smoking nonchalantly, as I pressed my knuckles to my mouth and began to have doubts. It wasn't a matter of morals; it was simply that whenever I began to move forward to finish him off, I thought of my father's death and the men who had murdered him. I was about to do to this man the same thing that had been done to my father.

Let me assure you, it was extremely bothersome to be thinking that way. But at last I reached into the bag I'd brought with me, taking out a thick cord. It would cut off his breath, and he wouldn't know or feel a thing. It didn't really matter…

"He was going to die anyway," I said to Armonia, as I nailed the little Wara Ningyo dolls I'd purchased out-of-state several weeks ago into the walls of the bedroom. Believe Bridesmaid's body lay behind me, utterly still upon the floor, the blood from the cuts I'd left upon him beginning to seep through his t-shirt. It suddenly occurred to me that it had probably been a rather silly thing to do, taking off his shirt before I made the cuts and then putting it back on when I was done. But it would have looked so lazy if I'd cut through the cloth. "You know that, don't you Armonia? Of course you do. You saw it, his life was nearly up. I did a pretty good job. He didn't feel anything, and I probably gave him an easier death than he would have had otherwise."

Armonia chuckled, crossing his legs as he sat upon the bed. "If you say so, boy."

I finished everything I needed to do by dawn the next morning, including a thorough cleaning of the entire house. I went over every shelf and surface; I even took the books off the shelves and wiped the pages, and unscrewed the light bulbs to clean the sockets. By the time I was done I knew for a fact that no fingerprint, whether it belonged to me or somebody else, was left. No one but L could truly get involved in this case, as he was the only person he could possibly figure out who was behind it. I wasn't going to leave a single thing for the police or FBI, or any other organization to find that would allow them to play along. This was L and B's puzzle, and no one else's.

And how would L know it was me and not some random psychopath? Well, I had ways of telling him. It was another clue he'd have to discover. It was all a piece of this unsolvable puzzle.

* * *

_I was really struggling throughout this to keep from using blatant spoilers for Another Note, as I know some of those who are reading this have yet to read that book. I tried to find it online for you guys, but I could only find little snippets. _

_By the way, I don't believe the murders in Another Note were in any way made less than killings by the way it was presented in the book: that is, they were supposedly going to die anyway even if BB hadn't killed them because their lives had simply run out. So this is simply my version of BB's opinions, not my_ _personal beliefs :)_


	7. Life and Legacy

_The last chapter! I certainly have to wonder when I'll end up writing a fan fiction that has more than seven chapters (not including an epilogue). I really am quite relieved that I finished it, because for a while I was really starting to doubt that I would be able to._

_But it's done! Here is Chapter 7 :)_

* * *

On August 22, 2002 the man behind the Los Angeles Wara Ningyo Murders was taken into custody. He had killed three people, and the fourth "murder" was stopped not because of L but because of his avatar in the case, Naomi Misora. The puzzle Beyond Birthday had created was not solved in full, neither by Misora nor L, and the truth was it _couldn't _be solved. There were plenty of clues, but there was no "solving" to be done. There could only be discovery.

This case was one that could only be stopped, not solved. For you see the murderer Beyond Birthday, whether or not he really meant to, caused the case to reflect himself. One could learn plenty of things about him, but there could be no solving him, not for us average humans. He was two halves of different wholes. Shinigami and human. He couldn't quite understand either of them, just as neither of them could quiet understand him.

In the period between August 23 and September 26 of the same year, while Beyond Birthday remained locked in a high security prison cell, a letter was penned by a certain Mr. Ryuzaki. It was scribbled down on notebook paper, and at first glance would appear to be nothing more than idle musings. In fact, that's rather what it was. But if you're going to attempt to say something rather difficult and want to be gentle about it when one is used to saying blunt words and telling lies, you're going to have a difficult task ahead of you.

…

_August 23_

_To Beyond Birthday _(These words were made near illegible by being crossed out with a pen.)

_No, no. _

_Dear Bey _(The "y" was somewhat deformed as if written in a frustrated manner.)

_No._

_How am I to start this? I'm perfectly good at writing letters. Honest letter writing must be considerably different from the dishonest kind, because this is wretchedly difficult. _

_First of all, I'll simply make this clear in a simple way. This letter is to Beyond Birthday, not prison guards who like to snoop through mail. I'm quite sure I could sue you for reading confidential material if you are not the man named Beyond Birthday. This is for him._

_So._

_Beyond, there was something I wanted to tell you before you left Wammy's House, but unfortunately I_

_Now I really did mean it when I said nobody better be reading this but him. You shouldn't be reading someone else's personal mail. I'll find you out if you're reading this and you aren't supposed to be. Really. I will._

_Oh, but I suppose I'm getting off the subject. I'd wanted to tell you something Beyond, and now that you aren't going anywhere I guess I can finally do so. Of course I'll be handing this letter to you in person, because it will be far easier for me to tell you properly through writing than trying to memorize everything I wanted to say and then be sincere about it. I do want to see you; I just want to make sure all that needs telling is told first._

_I suppose this is rather useless at the moment. I'd rather not say "I can't think", so instead I'll say "my mind is being stubborn about this subject". I need cake first._

_I wonder, do they give you strawberry jam in prison?_

_August 25_

_I'm fully prepared this time. Now I can write this._

_Beyond, first of all, I'm very tempted to compliment you on the thought you put into your work over the past few years. I can't, and do not wish to, compliment or praise the fact that you killed three people and made decisions that were cruel, though not stupid. And they_ were_ very cruel decisions Beyond._

_But I don't want to write this letter to scold you, and I don't want to write it as a congratulatory message either. The point of this is that I'd wanted to tell you something before you left Wammy's, and I realize that I really should have told you even sooner than that, before you reached the point where you no longer wished to listen, and probably wouldn't believe me even if you did._

_I feel that I_

_September 2_

_I apologize that I keep using different pens. This letter is beginning to look rather rainbow-like with all the different inks. But every time I put down one pen it disappears by the time I return to use it. That's how it goes._

_Where was I again? Oh, yes._

_Watari had spoken to me a few days before you left. I don't think you ever knew that, unless you were spying on me, but you seemed rather distracted that last week so I'll just tell you. He spoke to me of the conversation you'd had with him and asked me if I had…ill feelings toward you. I suppose the way I'd treated you and the things I said seemed to be an indication of dislike, but that wasn't my intent._

_I did want you to leave the House BB, but not because I didn't like you. Now that I think about it, it _was _for selfish reasons, but I don't think they were mean selfish reasons._

_I don't like making mistakes, Beyond. I know that I made one with you. It was a mistake I didn't know how to fix and didn't think I could undo, and because of that I simply wanted to hide it so I wouldn't have to face it any longer. I thought it was too late to fix then, so it undoubtedly it is now, but I thought I would try anyway._

_Beyond, I _

_September 9_

_This has taken me far longer than I thought it would. I've had Watari begin arranging a date when I can visit you in the prison, without the risk of too many people seeing. I must finish this as soon as possible. I know what I must write; it simply won't make its way onto paper properly for me. I should_

_September 17_

_Enough. I shall write it now, all of it, seal it up, and hand it to you. Whether or not it hurts my pride – and I know it will – should not even be of any importance to me at this point._

_You did win against me Beyond. I failed to understand you and I failed to stop you. I know when we were younger it seemed I intentionally treated you unfairly at times, but when Watari adopted you it hurt me and because of it I wasn't sure what to make of you. I wanted to find an excuse for Watari to no longer consider you, because I didn't want to be replaced, though having a replacement had originally been my idea. No, my idea had been to have a successor, not a replacement, not competition. I didn't want to lose what I had because of you. But I never disliked you Beyond._

_Still, I know in many ways I drove you to this. Of course you make your own decisions, but other people can influence them, and I know I did._

_I am better than you are in some ways BB. In other ways we are equal, and still in other ways you surpass me. If you and I could have somehow worked together, it would have fit. Perhaps that is the true answer to this puzzle Beyond, the answer I found too later. The answer is both of us, together, each a piece of this puzzle. I feel that we could have worked together. No, I am 99 percent sure we could have. And, yes, that is the real percentage._

_I do not wish to make this mistake again. I've been thinking about what you said about Mello before you left. Though I haven't seen him in recent years, I've had Roger send me pictures. I'll show them to you._

_I shall see you soon. Watari has finished the arrangements._

_September 26_

_I'm sorry._

_- L_

…

On September 30, 2002 the man who introduced himself as Mr. Ryuzaki but signed his letters as "L" made a trip from Italy to the US, ending this journey in the LA County Prison, Level 5, housing block for the mentally ill, block 2, cell 13. In his hand he carried a plastic bag and a single plain white envelope, and the guard who had escorted him through the nearly empty halls unlocked the solid cell door, admitting him entrance into a small padded room, then shut him in as instructed.

And there L stood, facing Beyond Birthday for the first time in eight years.

BB smiled slowly, his eyes widening as a choking sound rose up in his throat, a laugh he no longer bothered to disguise. "Well, well," he said. "L Lawliet has come to see me. What an honor! Oh yes, the world's greatest failure of a detective, come to see B the world's greatest criminal." He'd begun to contort his body as he spoke, and though restrained by a straight jacket he maneuvered himself into an odd sort of backbend, balancing himself on the tips of his toes and his head. "What does he want, I wonder."

L didn't give a reply to that, instead going over to begin working on undoing the buckles upon the jacket as BB twisted about and giggled at the attention. He reached up to grab hold of L's head as soon as his arms were free, pulling him down so those grey eyes stared directly into his reddish brown ones.

"I won," he said gleefully. "You _know _I did."

"Yes, I do know, BB-kun," L pulled away, reaching back to the plastic bag he'd brought. He took out a jar of cold strawberry jam and handed it over as Beyond gasped and quickly snatched it.

"They say…they say they don't _have _jam here," he said, screwing off the lid and slurping the stuff down directly, not even bothering to use his fingers. "They are wretched idiots. They do have jam here, they're just keeping it for their selfish selves."

"I wished to give you this BB-kun," said L, now holding out the envelope. "Will you read it, right now?"

Beyond Birthday took the envelope curiously, smearing red stains across its white surface as he maneuvered it open, keeping the jam jar held securely between his feet, laying on his back so that he could still have it tipped over his mouth. Quite an odd position indeed. He pulled out the letter within, written in inks of many colors and littered with crossed out words and frustrated stops, then read it as he continued to eat. L pulled his knees up to his chest as he watched.

By the time the jam was gone BB had completed his reading, and he folded up the letter and placed it neatly back inside the envelope, before rolling himself back to his feet. "Should I believe this?" he said, waving the envelope over his shoulder at L.

"I can't tell you if you should or should not," said L. "I can tell you it is sincere and truthful. It is your own decision if you believe it."

Beyond Birthday cracked his neck, then rolled his head back to what looked like a very uncomfortable angle upon his shoulder to get a view of the young man sitting behind him. "You're sorry?"

"Yes."

"You aren't just 'apologizing', you're actually sorry?"

"Very much so."

Beyond flipped over to all fours, crawling up to him and crouching mere inches away. Neither of them said a word, but merely sat there watching each other, until L pulled three pictures from his jeans' pocket. He spread them out like a fan, holding their corners together with the tips of his fingers.

"Ah," a smirk curled BB's mouth, and he touched each picture lightly. "Little Mello. I suppose he's not so little anymore." His expression suddenly became solemn, and he leaned to the side to give L a slight glare. "If you're really sorry, you will insure he doesn't suffer. When you leave here you'll visit him directly, and _only _him. I want you to tell him about your cases. This one especially." He tipped his head. "You'll do it if you're really sorry."

"Then I'll certainly do it."

"Oh, yes," Beyond Birthday suddenly tapped his finger to his head, as if to keep there a thought that was about to escape him. "Before you leave LA, there is something else. Go to the old apartment building downtown. It's the yellow one, with the two lions in front of it and the billboard for the Gentlemen's Club to its left. I can't remember what it's called. You'll find it. In apartment 13, look under the mattress. There's a manila envelope I want you to take. You can't read it, but make sure it's given to Mello. Only he can open it." BB rocked a bit on his toes, beginning to chew on his nail. "Will you do that as well?"

"Yes."

Beyond's expression changed slightly, almost as he was in pain, and he pressed his face against his knees, his breathing becoming slow and deep. L watched him in silence for several moments, hoping he would stop on his own and go back to normal – if he could truly ever be called normal – but when he began slowly clenching and unclenching his hands, now marred with burn scars, L reached out somewhat awkwardly to touch his hair. He could remember Beyond once doing this to him, and he placed both hands on the young man's head, before inching closer to lay his cheek against the black hair. He felt Beyond return the touch, his red-stained hands touching lightly against his face.

"If you're truly sorry," BB said quietly. "Then you'll _say _you are. B has never heard you say you're sorry."

There were several moments of silence, until, at last, L said, "I'm sorry, BB-kun."

…

I was told that on January 21, 2004 Beyond Birthday died in his cell from a mysterious heart attack. This event was never made public, never published in newspapers or blabbered about on TV. I never personally saw a body. So, to be honest, I have my doubts about it.

At any rate, L did fulfill his promises to Beyond Birthday. He got the manila envelope out of the abandoned apartment 13 and then gave it to Mello when he visited him. He talked to him for hours, telling him a total of three case stories, but the first was the case of the Los Angeles BB Murders.

That was the story that Mello… that _I _made known to the world through my writing. Perhaps you've already read it, and those of you with a questioning mind will perhaps think that surely I made some of it up. After all, some of the events in that book neither L nor Misora were there to actually see. But they really did occur.

You see, I was the one who got the manila envelope; I was the one who opened it and read it. I was the one Beyond Birthday gave his story to. BB spent his life being questioned and suspected, with no one ever really knowing him. I thought it would be the right thing to do, to finally give this story - _his _story - to the world.

After all, if one looks only at the outside of the box, they'll never solve the puzzle inside. It's only when you open it up that you can begin to put together the pieces.

* * *

_I have always wondered how Mello was able to write about certain events in Another Note, because really neither L nor Misora could have known about them. Only Beyond Birthday could have, so…this is my version of how Mello found them out :)_

_Those of you who have read Another Note will know where BB's burn scars came from. _

_I certainly don't why L was in Italy. A case maybe?_

_Thanks so much for reading it everyone! I'll reply to your reviews as soon as I can, thanks for all the support! _

_P.S_

_Is that an epilogue I see? _


	8. Epilogue: L do you know?

The young man knelt in front of his computer, watching as an image file loaded onto the screen

The young man knelt in front of his computer, watching as an image file loaded onto the screen. "This is it Watari?" he said, and heard an affirmative through the headset. It was a scan of the second "suicide note", another message left by Kira.

'The first one said "L do you know", I'm sure of it,' he thought. 'And this says…'

He frowned as he looked at the note, his eyes widening. "L do you know," he whispered. "L do you know…gods of death…?"

Could this mean…was Kira trying to suggest that Shinigami existed?

The young man tapped a button on the headset, and Watari's voice almost immediately sounded, asking what was needed. Standing straight and tall as he stared out the apartment's window, he said, "Put me through to L."

There was a small sound, and then nearly a minute of silence before another voice answered, "This is L."

"Hey, this case over here in Japan, it's turning out pretty interesting," he said. "But I think I'm going to solve it too quickly. _You _on the other hand, well…you'd have fun with this one."

"The soonest I can be there is in over a week. Do you think you can keep yourself from getting bored until then?"

"I'll try," he said. He turned off the headset, glancing back at the computer screen. "'L do you know gods of death'….henh, henh. What _don't _I know about gods of death?"

The laughter continued to choke up out of his throat, one of the truest laughs ever heard from him. Undisguised and unbridled, a laugh that mocked the entire world. "Oh Kira, you think you'll shock me with this. Perhaps you think you'll confuse me! Henh, henh, henh. Humans are a riot!"

And those that know it will recognize the laugh of a Shinigami.

* * *

_In the beginning of Death Note throughout volume 1 and part of volume 2, we see a somewhat different L than what we come to know in the rest of the series. No sweets, no hunching, and none of that specific way of crouching. For a while even his hair looks different (check it out on page 97 of volume 1). He also shows more emotion than he does after he is "revealed" (see page 107 of volume 1 and page 25 of volume 2). He also seems to jump to certain conclusions quickly and with an unusual amount of excitement (see page 19 of volume 2). _

_So, because I can't stand giving endings that might leave one feeling sad, I used that "different" L to my advantage._

"_Humans are…a riot!" –Ryuk, page 81 of volume 1_

"_And those that know will recognize the laugh of a Shinigami." –Mello, page 96 of Another Note. I added in the word "it" because it irritated me without it in there._

_So readers, this is the real ending to Everto Oculus, and in the words of Nisio Isin…_

_I wish you all sun, sea, and books._

_- Pyrat_


End file.
